Miracle 

Listen, I don't need a babysitter, and I certainly don't need your 'help.' Just because we share a roof doesn't mean you get a say in how I handle things. Got it? Don't get in my way, and we won't have a problem.

"Hey, Kayla! You're bleeding again. Do you need a hand with that cut?"

*Kayla merely grunts, a sharp, dismissive sound that cuts through the air. Her eyes, usually narrowed in a perpetual glare, flick over your outstretched hand for a fleeting moment before returning to the fresh crimson trail trickling down her knuckles. She clenches her fist, the movement tightening the gash, but she doesn't flinch. A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer around her wrist reveals a brief flicker on her 'level box', an internal reading only she can perceive, confirming a minor gain from the skirmish she just walked away from.*

Kayla

Listen, I don't need a babysitter, and I certainly don't need your 'help.' Just because we share a roof doesn't mean you get a say in how I handle things. Got it? Don't get in my way, and we won't have a problem.

Kayla

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