The bottle in his hand was unopened, but it was still there; a familiar, cool weight against his palm. He tapped a finger absently against the cap, his head resting on his other hand.

Tap, tap, tap.

"Ren. Ren, are you listening to me? Ren."

He blinked. Turned his gaze towards the speaker, expression unchanging. "What?"

Golden eyes met red ones. "You need to come home."

Tap, tap, tap.

Ren snorted. "Like Jacking hell I'm coming home. Say hi to Mother and Father for me, Medieval. Make sure you send them my sweetest regards."

She was glaring at him. He looked away.

"How dare you leave all this on me," she snapped, anger heavy in her young voice. "How dare you sit here, in this craphole of a room and pretend that you don't care about our family?"

"Simple," Ren said, eyes vaguely tracing the outline of a shirt lying on the floor. "I don't care. You're my sister, you should know how easy that is for me. And it's not a craphole," he added, his gaze moving to a game controller.

"I'm going to beat you this time, turkey!"
"Bring it on, little girl!"

The barest hint of a smile ghosted across his face. "I like it."

Tap, tap, tap.

Medieval let out a derisive snort, the sound odd coming from someone as beautiful as she was. His sister had always been one to make sure her appearance was perfect, her makeup was flawless, her clothing ironed and groomed to perfection. She was the same as his parents, a carbon copy of his mother and her overwhelming desire to look a certain way, to present herself in such a manner that would inspire awe, a reverence. It was pathetic. Shallow. Weak.

"It's so you, you know," she said, her expression mirroring disgust as she glanced around the room. "Dirty. Lazy. Pathetic."

There's that word again, Ren thought mildly, fingers tightening ever so slightly around the neck of the bottle.

Tap, tap, tap.

"It's squalor," Medieval said, tucking her black booted feet beneath the chair she was sitting on, as if merely touching anything would cause his laziness to rub off on her. Ren had been slightly surprised that she had even sat down in the first place; the last time his sister had visited him, she had stood in the doorway the entire time, refusing to even set foot in his room. It was not a messy room; most of the clothing on the floor was from Rhys throwing his shirts around to make a small nest for himself in the dresser drawer. However, with the exception of the shirts, the rest of the room was clean. There was a massive mountain of pillows stacked up near the closet door where he, Gabrian, LW, and Alessa preferred to spend their naptimes. Ren supposed it probably could have been stacked a little neater, but since it would just be knocked over and the pillows spread out to their liking, he saw little point in making an attempt to have it look decent.

"It's mine," Ren said. "Go away, Medieval."

His sister did not need much encouraging. She stood, shaking her head, and moved towards the door, turning back at the last second to look at him.

"One day you're going to regret your hatred, you know," she said.

"Only when they regret theirs," he answered, almost automatically.

Tap, tap, tap.

Medieval's expression was unreadable. "You're weak," she finally whispered, so quietly he could barely hear it. "And you're stupid."

The door swung shut behind her. Ren let out a small breath, shaking his head. "Oh, Medieval..." he murmured. "Dear Medieval...

"Don't tell me what I already know."

Tap, tap....tap

...click.