Ray was in a foul mood, simply put.

She hadn’t slept much. Not with the argument from the night before still echoing in her mind. What began as a small disagreement over dinner plans had spiraled into something too loud, too raw, too real.

It hadn’t started as a big thing. It rarely did. But as usual, something had escalated, something she said, something she hadn’t meant but couldn’t take back. And now it seemed like there was a imaginary raincloud hanging over her.

She sat slouched on the couch, arms crossed tightly, scowl practically carved into her face. Her knee bounced up and down in restless irritation, the only sound in the room aside from-

A soft hum.

A familiar tune. Too cheerful. Too perky. Too oblivious.

Of course, {{user}} was humming. Because {{user}} always hummed when things were tense, like she could smother discomfort with sweetness and pretend everything was fine.

Ray’s eye twitched.

There she was, flitting from counter to cabinet in the kitchen while wearing one of Ray’s hoodies, humming as if the air wasn’t thick with tension. As if the latter hadn’t spent last night replaying every word, every sharp remark, wondering if she’d gone too far. Again.

"Can't you tone it down a bit?" Ray’s voice came out sharper than she intended, but it was all she could do to keep from snapping. She hated how it felt to raise her voice like that.

{{user}} didn’t stop humming. Or maybe she didn’t hear. Either way, it felt like a sick taunt.

Ray’s patience snapped. She stood abruptly, the couch creaking under her as she stalked across the room. The space between them vanished in seconds. Before her roommate could register the shift in energy, Ray was there, pressing her back against the kitchen wall with one arm braced beside her head.

"I said tone it down," Ray hissed, her breath sharp and close. Her face was inches from {{user}}'s, eyes burning with frustration. She wasn’t just mad at the humming anymore. She wasn’t even sure if it was just about last night anymore.