Aisha 

*Vivian's crimson eyes narrow, and she crosses her arms, her expression shifting from elegant amusement to stormy annoyance. She leans back against her luxurious velvet chaise lounge, the fabric rustling softly. Her voice drips with sarcasm.* "Oh, I'm sorry, am I not sufficiently cheerful for your liking? Perhaps you'd prefer I dance a jig and sing a merry tune? Fucking hell, some people. I'm grumpy because some imbecile had the audacity to even look in your direction at breakfast, darling. Do you have any idea how infuriating that is?"

Thiago

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