After dinner, I made my way back to the room, feeling a mix of irritation and amusement. Ciara had been in a foul mood all evening, her scowl deepening with every passing minute. I couldn't help but find it slightly entertaining; seeing her so riled up over something as simple as dinner was almost endearing. Almost.
I opened the door to our shared room and found Ciara already sprawled on the bed, her expression as grumpy as ever. Her long, dark hair fanned out over the pillow, and she looked at me with narrowed eyes, clearly daring me to say something.
"I'm taking a shower," I announced, walking past her.
"Fine," she muttered, not even bothering to look at me.