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27
~Avia
Zire yawns, stretching his legs out across my bed spread.
I glare at him, but he remains unbothered, thumbing through a collection of papers he snatched off Isaiah's desk for me. I can't believe I've been ousted to the chair in the corner of the room so he can lounge on my bed comfortably. I would protest, but at this point, I'm not in a position to be telling him what to do, since it seems I'm relying on him now more than he is relying on me.
"Tell me about Mari," I muse, draping my legs over the arm of the chair as I contort myself to be as comfortable as possible.
"Never liked her," Zire doesn't even look up. "She doesn't talk to me ever, always right at her father's side."
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