Renrael

A Visitor

"I don't think she qualifies as a 'visitor' anymore if she comes over more than once a month, Ren."

"Shut it, Ian. She does."

"You look ridiculous. She's been here before, you know."

"At least pick up your dishes from lunch. Put them in the sink at the very least." Ren threw his cousin a glare over his shoulder as he wiped down the table.

Ian pointedly leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the tabletop with a thick thunk. His hands folded behind his head and he pushed the chair to wobble back onto its legs. When Ren turned around to take said lunch dishes to the sink, Ian toed the salt shaker over--just to be a dick.

Ren heard it, and the sprinkle of the granules hit, but he held his tongue. But if looks could kill... Ian gave his younger cousin a boyish grin, pulled to one side. The family resemblance was clear.

"Can you stop being a jackass for a moment?"

"Naaaaah. Who have we got to impress? She's met me. She knows me enough. ... She knows YOU enough, too."

Ren stopped in his rushed cleaning job, looking up from straightening some newspapers on the coffee table. "If only that were true. ... You think--"

"No." Ian was suddenly brisk and his eyes hardened to stone.

Right. No. She didn't know that part of them.