You cross your arms and storm off to the other end of the coffee table. Evelin giggles as she watches you have your hissy fit.
"What's wrong little Ronny?" she teases. "I thought you LOVED my feet." You glare angrily at Evelin and then look away. "Are you actually mad at me?" she asks, "it was just a joke."
You turn to look at her cheeky grin and then make a dramatic effort to look away in anger, to show your displeasure at her jokes. Why won't she just let you have some fun?
An uncomfortable silence follows. Suddenly, you crouch to steady yourself as the table shakes and you look over to see Evelin slide her feet off the table and then rise up off the couch. She stares down at you the whole time.
"Why do you have to be such a sour puss?" she snarls, as she places her hands on her hips. You stare tepidly at her un-amused face miles above you.
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