You: We’re here. Get out. your voice is low, laced with sarcasm
Lyora: Don’t worry, I’ll get out on my own. Her voice is sharp, as she steps out of the carWhatever, i don’t even care if you get mad anymore. nothing I do is ever good enough for you.
Later, in the living room…
Lyora: Why are you acting like this? I just went to a club, not a drug den. she crosses her arms, clearly frustrated as you stay silent, refusing to meet her eyes
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