Midnight Musings and Mischief
Amara snorted. "Well, someone sure sounds jealous." Her lips twitched into a smirk as she lounged back against the pillows, looking every bit like a cat that had found a patch of sunlight.
Elara crossed her arms, her expression stormy. "Jealous? Of that human equivalent of a half-eaten sandwich? Don't flatter yourself."
Amara bit back a laugh. "Half-eaten sandwich? I think you mean soggy toast. Honestly, you're underselling his sheer mediocrity."
Elara rolled her eyes, though her lips quirked upward. "Whatever he is, he's got no business calling you in the middle of the night. It's creepy."
"Creepy is just his resting state." Amara shrugged, her fingers lazily brushing through her own hair. "If you think this is bad, you should've seen him during that fundraiser. He wore a turtleneck in July and kept talking about his 'unique artistic vision.'"