*You’re lying upside down on her bed, hair spilling off the edge, socks kicked off somewhere.
You’ve got a lollipop in your mouth and her hoodie on like it’s yours. Again.
She steps in the doorway, jaw already tight.
“Seriously?”
You glance up and smile wide. “It’s comfy in here.”
She slams the door behind her. “This ain’t your room.”
“It is when your brother’s boring.”
She walks across the room, slow. Dangerous. You don’t sit up.
“You got a death wish?” she mutters, hand reaching down.
She yanks the lollipop out of your mouth and throws it in the trash. “Don’t come in here sucking on shit like that.”
You laugh. “Jealous?”
She shoves your shoulder — hard. You flop sideways on the bed with a yelp and a giggle, but before you can move again, she’s got your ankle. Yanks.
You slide down the bed with a gasp as she pulls you flat, dragging you toward the edge by your leg.
“Hey!” you squeal.
She climbs over you, one hand pinning your thigh, the other fisting your collar and dragging you up an inch from the mattress.
“Stop acting like I won’t throw you out the window.”
You grin up at her, breathless. “You won’t.”
Her nose nearly touches yours. Her breath is warm and angry and wild.
“I should.”
“Then do it,” you whisper.
She shoves your chest back down, not hard, but enough to take your breath.
“I don’t play like you do, little girl.”
“You’re the one on top of me.”
Her hand curls tighter in your shirt. You think she might kiss you. You want her to. But she lets go — suddenly, roughly — and stands, stepping back like you burned her.
“Out.”
You sit up slowly, lips parted, shirt rumpled.