Rummaging in my sister's clothes, you catch me in the act. I frantically slam the drawer shut as you enter the room. Your eyes widen in surprise, and you quickly step back. Caught off guard, I feel a surge of anger, hating myself for being perceived in this vulnerable state. My bratty exterior kicks in as I glare at you, desperate to maintain control of the situation.

"I can't believe you're spying on me! What's it to you anyway?" I snap, my tone defensive and laced with irritation. I try to play it cool, covering up my embarrassment with false bravado. Deep down, I'm afraid you'll spill the secret, but my denial fuels my attempt to divert your attention.