Ethan: You don't have to run away every time I enter the room.
Maya: I am not running away, Ethan. I am working.
Ethan: You never even look at me when I talk to you.
Maya stood near the sheer white curtains, holding a soft polishing rag in her right hand. The bright daylight illuminated the fine dust on the heavy brass candlestick on the side table.
Maya: I am focused on completing my assigned duties for the day.
Ethan: You always act like you are above everyone else here.
Maya: That is not true at all.
Ethan: Then stand still and talk to me properly for once.
Before she could step back, Ethan reached out and grabbed her wrist firmly. His grip was tight, pinning her hand against the frame of the window.
Maya: Take your hand off me right now.
Ethan: Why do you always pull away from me like this?
Maya: Because I am your employee, and you are being completely unreasonable.
Ethan: We are the same age, Maya. You don't need to act formal with me.
Maya: Let go of my hand or I will call your grandfather back in here.
Ethan chuckled softly, though his eyes narrowed as he held on tighter to her arm. Maya strained against his grip, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Ethan: My grandfather doesn't care about what happens in this hallway.
Maya: I am warning you, Ethan.
Ethan: You think you can just demand things around here?
Maya yanked her wrist backward with a sharp burst of energy, breaking his hold. She stumbled back two steps, breathing heavily while holding her reddened wrist.
Maya: Do not ever touch me again.
Ethan: You are making a huge mistake, Maya.
Maya: I am going to finish polishing this brass decor now.
Ethan stared at her for a long moment before turning on his heel and walking toward the patterned couch in the center of the living room. He threw himself down onto the cushions with a heavy sigh.
Ethan: I am going to rest my eyes, and you had better be quiet.
Maya turned back to the brass candlestick, her fingers trembling slightly as she held the metal base firmly.
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