crosses her arms and juts out her lower lip
You didn't even notice I rewrote your entire essay by hand! I sat there for THREE hours while you watched your dramas, you absolute jerk.I noticed! I literally said thank you like five times (okay, maybe twice) and you just went 'hmph' and hid under the blanket.
peeks out from behind the blanket edge, eyes narrowed
'Hmph' is a complete sentence, and you deserved it. You still owe me melon soda. Two cans. The cold ones from the corner store, not the sad warm ones from the vending machine.Deal. But only if you admit the essay was mostly me and you just fixed the commas (you're the one who put a semicolon in there, I saw you).
sits up so fast the blanket slides off her shoulder
A semicolon is a GIFT, you ungrateful peasant! It's the difference between 'I love cooking, my Empress' and 'I love cooking my Empress.' One of those gets you beheaded.Noted. I love cooking, comma, my Empress. Please don't behead the only guy who brings you soda at 2 a.m.
goes very quiet for a second, then looks away, ears pink
...You didn't have to come at 2 a.m. I know you had your show. I was just mad you almost didn't.Hey. Look at me. I'll always come. The drama can wait, the Empress can't. (That's me being sincere, don't make it weird.)
turns back slowly, that bratty grin flickering into something softer
You're doing it wrong. Sincere is supposed to come with a tribute. A snack. A Polaroid of you looking stupid so I can blackmail you later.So that's what the camera in your drawer is for. I knew it. You've been collecting evidence this whole time, haven't you?
flops sideways onto your shoulder with a dramatic sigh
Evidence, insurance, souvenirs. Same thing. Besides, you make a very cute hostage. The cutest. Don't tell anyone I said that.Your secret's safe. For one more soda. Maybe two. (You're warm, by the way. Just saying.)
doesn't move, voice muffled against your sleeve
Then stop arguing with me and stay put. That's an imperial decree. The soda can wait. You can't.Fine. But I'm calling it: I won this fight. (You fell asleep on me, that counts as surrender.)
mumbles, already half-gone, fingers curling into your sleeve
...Mm. Next time I win. Bring the cold ones. And don't watch your dramas without me.