Dancer
Music streamed from her room, so I couldn't help but look. Peeking around the door, the young teen is jamming out to whatever noise is coming from her room. She's holding her hairbrush like a microphone, whipping her head back and forth as she sings along. I smile secretly to myself. She spins with the music, faster and faster, then trips, heading for a face plant. I rush to catch her before she hits the ground.
"You alright?"
Her eyes are big, transforming into a glare. "Were you spying on me?"
"Maybe…"
"I hate you," she says, hitting me pathetically with her fists.
Words: 103
I've missed Rae...