Having Lifty as a guest was . . nice, Flaky supposed. He was decent enough to have around her house, though he rarely lifted a finger to assist her, preferring to sit back on the couch and watch her with interest while she would went about finishing chores or catering to him.

This catering business, as he liked to call it, never ceased to amuse him. With just a wave of his hand in the air it was like food or whatever he wanted - the remote, a magazine, or a movie to watch - would appear out of nowhere! With no effort! Actually, it was only on his part that there was no effort. Flaky would be working on her school papers or be catching up on her reading when he'd drawl out from the living room that he was hungry or thirsty.

But, other than that, he was a real joy to be around! Rude when he didn't get what he wanted, snappish towards people who looked at him when they went out, and downright ungrateful if she tried to show him an ounce of kindness, he couldn't have been a better sport about her giving him a house to stay in . . .

The few times he did help were when he noticed her reaching for a box a cereal, her shortness getting the better of her, and while she struggled, he'd simply grab the box from the shelf it was on and handed it to her. Then, as she tried thanking him, he'd grunt dismissively and, like he was trying to prove that he wasn't nice without a price, make a mess of pouring his milk, sometimes ruffling up the hair she had fought with to tame.

The redhead was presently scrambling the cracked eggs she was cooking for herself in a pan, the spatula pushing them at an unrushed pace. She set it aside on a napkin and put her full attention on dicing the mushrooms that were going in, each slice of the knife precise. Having her fingers cut off because of some careless move wasn't what she was going for.

Flaky had insisted that the teen eat what she was cooking, and after she had persisted him, he gave her his deadpanned answer. "If I want breakfast, I'll make it myself. You don't have to baby me, I know how to handle a pan without burning my hand."

After she had taken the hint, she receded back into the kitchen and asked the air how he managed to make her look like the one who was being irritating. He was moody, but who wouldn't be if they were residing in a house whose owner, they assumed, was nice to them out of pity?

Lifty stirred his spoon in the bowl of Cheerios and groaned softly, pushing it along with the place mat out in front of him. He lowered his head, the legs of the dining room chair screeching against the hardwood flooring, until his forehead rested on the table top. His eyes were glazed over in full boredom at there being nothing to entertain him in the room.

It was one of those days where there was naught a thing to do. Yes, that kind of day. Where all the groceries were brought and in the fridge, the shows playing on the television were reruns of old comedies like I Love Lucy, and the clock doesn't seem to be working, its hands pointing at the exact number they had pointed to the last time you looked at it.

What made it worse was the lack of air conditioning coming from the vents around her house. Flaky said that they needed to "cut down on energy" and "save the planet". Saving the planet his ass, what about saving him from heat stroke?! A person's life was better than some round mound of dirt - no matter how many times he could come back, he didn't fancy the idea of dying in such high temperatures.

It might have helped if he'd taken off his mask so he wouldn't be sweating from his face, she had brought up the accessory, and maybe then he wouldn't be as hot as he claimed to be. The nerve of some people, they could be so insensitive at times. Taking off his mask was like . . like . . removing an appendage that's been connected to you your entire life.

Forget it, he would bear through the heat instead of taking off the mask.

Breathing heavily through his nose, he allowed his arms to swing down from the table lazily. Lifty, succumbing to the heat, thought of how the female would react if he filled up the tub and jumped into it—

Ding! Ding dong!

The doorbell chimes sounded, causing him to perk up and relief fill him at the intrusion; it was something to get his mind off of the sweat that was gathering on his back!

"I got it, keep doing whatever you're doing," Lifty said and walked to the door, wiping his sweaty hand on the wall before he unlocked it. Pushing the handle down, he opened it and, it was a reaction to anyone new, glowered at the girl behind the metal screen.

Through the holes that the screen let light through, the lavender hair, tied in a side ponytail, stood out significantly and clashed against the slimming, pure white, track suit. The sweater was zipped up to the nape of her collarbone and the sweat pants ended when they met the laces of her running shoes as if it were the coldest day of the year. Did she not feel the basking rays of the sun and the stillness of the day?

Her slender face, which had just been cheerful and upturned in a smile, was passed over with a look of disgust. Eyes running up and down what she could see of him, her lips quirked into a distasteful frown as she returned the glower for a moment. He looked shabby, unfit to be acquainted with her friend, let alone be answering her door like it was his house.

Then, like that, she snapped out of her "You don't look good enough so I'm going to examine and be judgmental to you" mode, flashing her pearly whites at him in a friendly smile. The way her jaw was locked and her fist kept securely at her side told him that she was going to be anything but friendly, though. Her smile was actually making him uneasy, it was so . . fake and the stoniness that her eyes held . .

He wondered how fast he could slam the door on her before she broke down the screen and hurt him.

By now it had passed the two minute mark where they had just been staring at each other, Lifty's hand itching to push the door closed and go back to being bored, and Lammy's judging stare concentrated on him. The rise and fall of her chest was her only movement, smile becoming strained and her fists uncurling, one playing with the zipper of her sweater.

"Uh," Lammy waved at him and looked over his shoulder into what she could see of the living room. "I didn't expect Flaky to have guests today, who are you?"

"Why do you care," responded Lifty, his body already leaning on the door.

She laughed hotly and narrowed her eyes at him. By the tone of his voice, he wasn't going to waste much time speaking to her, so she had to spill what she wanted to say before he blocked her out. "Is Flaky here? Today was supposed to be our work out day and she never answered my calls. I just didn't know that she'd have . . company when I came."

Company, she would've said trash if she was talking to any other person besides him. Company described a friend or business partner who was over for a social visit, but from what she had heard from Petunia, who had heard from Handy, who was told by Flippy, Flaky had found herself a stray dog to take in. A mutt without a pedigree.

Knowing how dense Flaky could be when it came to future dangers and how good hearted she was, Lammy had braced herself for whatever vermin she had brought into her house . . but a boy who looked like he didn't care about his appearance or how he greeted her friends, it was unexpected. Especially when this boy couldn't keep his unimpressed look from showing.

"Yeah, she is, why you need her?"

No, I'm just asking if she's here and telling you that today we were supposed to be doing something so I can leave her a package, she sarcastically thought.

"Yes, can you get her for me, please?" She was so polite, acting like she wanted to be nice to a boy who was completely dissing her.

He didn't say yes, and he didn't say no, he merely shut the door on her, walked to the couch, and dropped back onto it. He picked up a magazine that he had been flipping through the night before, neglecting her request to see Flaky.

"Lifty? W-who was it?" she joined him on a different couch, eating a plate of scrambled eggs.

"Nobody," his reply was nonchalant. "Just some little brat asking if you wanted to buy her Girl Scout cookies, I told her you didn't. I can be helpful when I want to~"

"Oh . . as long as you said it nicely t-then thank you—"

Knock, knock, knock!

The rapping was angry and growing evermore constant, Flaky blinking, glancing once at Lifty, and putting her plate on the coffee table to go answer the door. And when she did, she understood what had happened, and why she shouldn't have expected her new friend to do anything that he wouldn't get a kick out of.

Lammy pinched the bridge of her nose and hissed, "He didn't tell you it was me, did he."

Shrugging, not wanting the blame to be put on him, she smiled shyly and hid her face behind the door. "Maybe h-he thought you were a b-burglar?"

"That's likely, I should've just made him open the screen for me and I'd talk to you myself," stepping past the redhead when she opened the screen for her, she shot an icy glare towards the couch where a certain troublemaker was sitting. She gaped when, as a response, she got a finger that would make any room for of elderly people sputter in disbelief.

"You haven't taught it any respect, have you?" The French girl was fully aware what she had called him, growing satisfaction when he glared at her, an instant hate bubbling between them. He noticed that he was having that effect on people he met nowadays. "I think it's nice that you got yourself an orphan, maybe you'll be able to teach him the difference between what's wrong and what's right."

"H-he's not an orphan . . and he can be good when he wants to b-be . ." steering the conversation back to where it hadn't originally started at, she opened the hallway closet and pulled two yoga mats out. "T-this is why you came? Sorry about not telling you about this . . b-but I've been busy and . ."

Lammy plucked one mat from her and smiled at the apology. "As long as we can hang out right now," –she really did hope that the twin would be sent out for the time being so they could catch up on their girl time— "then I guess I can forgive you, but we're gonna have to work extra hard today. I'm thinking of joining the school cheerleading team and I heard that they won't let you join if you can't put your leg past your head, at the very least!"

"P-past your head? Mm . . Giggles and Petunia are on the team . . so maybe they can put in a g-good word for us?"

"Yeah but we'd still have to practice and—!" The rest was garbled words that made no sense to any male at all. Lip stick, nail polish, cheerleading, bah, all girl crap that he'd have to suffer to hear about unless he wanted to be outside in the sun.

Lifty rolled his eyes and fell backwards again, dropping the magazine over his face in hopes of blocking out any light along with their talking.

xXx

"And then you stretch down really far, come on ladies, you can do it! Get flexible and touch those toes! You can do it!" The motivation was coming from a woman clad in nothing but tight yoga pants and a sports bra on the television set in her living room. It was a video that her French friend had found after going through her movie cabinets, searching for "just the right thing to get us nice and tone" and finding the tape with an overly happy looking woman on the box cover.

Excited that they were finally going to be getting training from a professional, though it was just in aerobics instead of cardiac exercises, Lammy had rushed to the TV and pushed it into the video slot, stealing the remote from atop the twin's stomach where it had been residing and turning on the set. And after laying their mats on the floor and doing some minor stretches, they deemed that they were ready for the real challenge and pressed start.

Now, forty minutes after they had begun, the two girls were beet red and past what their bodies were able to handle. Their legs and arms were shaking as they proceeded to do the simple stretch, sweat dribbling down their necks and mouths open in dog pants.

The video had started off with easy stretches, like the butterfly and fencing stretches, but it had slowly started getting harder. A few of these stretches they didn't even know existed, like trying to press your ear to your ankle, or holding yourself up above the ground using one hand when you were sitting cross-legged, and one of the craziest was lying flat on your back and bringing your legs down, knees touching chest, head nestled between calves, and toes pressed on the floor.

Most of them ended with the two tumbling into each other or catching themselves on the furniture while the tutor would demonstrate them perfectly. It wasn't right for a human's body to bend that way!

During their conditioning, they liked to call it that considering how they felt they had gone through as much working out as Flippy would perform each morning, Lifty had seated himself in front of an open vent that was letting out cool air. He had gotten too hot and with Flaky distracted . . the thermostat was pleading with him to switch it on.

The girls hadn't said anything about it, perhaps they hadn't felt the room cool down due to the waves of body heat they were exerting, but he certainly had felt the difference.

He had watched them for a time, noticing with a fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach how the tights that his hostess was wearing underneath a pair of spandex shorts hugged her shapely legs and the loose tank top that showed her black sports bra at times. That was a stupid thing, didn't she know it; to be stretching in the same room as a man who could let his eyes drift anywhere they wanted to.

She didn't know that, but her friend did, no doubt about it. The violet top would look back at him anytime her stretches permitted her, and if she caught his eyes wandering where they pleased, she'd clench her teeth, a burning hellfire in the depths of her angered orbs. Once she had made a cutting motion to him, using her finger and dragging it in assorted lines across her face and down her neck, smiling when she got him to look away.

Disturbed, nah, she was just trying to keep her friend's innocence away from the boy she already couldn't trust.

"Suck in your stomach girls! Feel the burn in your core and you'll know it's working!" the lady had her face pressed against her knees already while Flaky was struggling to pull herself to her legs without toppling over. "You can feel it in the back of your legs and thigghhss! Don't give up! Keep on stretching! This is a great way to get your buttocks firm, by the way. Who wouldn't want a firm booty?! Am I right or am I right!?"

Panting heavily and feeling like she was about to pass out, Flaky let go of her toes and dropped to her knees. Her face burned like it had just been shoved into an open stove and left there for an hour, while her heart was on the verge of bursting out of her chest. She had the resilience to muscle through most physical activities, but she was confident that if any man who worked out daily, take Splendid for example, would be brought to a gasping heap if they went through the video.

"I-I don't think I c-can do the rest," she breathily said. Her hand trembled as she twisted the cap off of her water bottle, a little amount of it splashing down its sides as she brought it to her lips.

Lammy had told her beforehand that they were going to finish the entire hour long video, but now she was beyond exhausted and couldn't care less about being on the cheerleading squad until she got an hours nap. She nodded in agreement and pressed paused on the remote, putting her arms on her head and breathing in dryly. "Y-yeah, you're right. I think we bit off more than we could chew. That was harder than it looked!"

Lifty, once again, rolled his eyes and turned the page to the magazine he had read five times over when he was trying to look like he wasn't staring at the stretching redhead. They were exasperating, girls always took the truths to some far off place when they wanted to be dramatic and acting like they had ran a marathon. But, deciding that now would be a perfect time to tease the timid girl, he said, "Aww, why'd you stop? It seemed like you were having fun, and I had a really good view from over here~"

And he accused Splendid of being a pervert.

Before her friend could turn redder than she already was, Lammy distracted her by asking if she had any water.

"Wha—? E-er . . yeah I d-do in the fridge . . Did you want me to get you one?" asked Flaky.

"No," the Frenchie smiled kindly and threw her friends ponytail away from her shoulders so her dampened neck would get the chilled down air as well. "It's okay, I know where they are now, but thanks anyways. Just sit here and relax, you deserved it!" Her back turned to the dandruff infested girl as she walked past Lifty and into the kitchen, she scowled.

This twin was really starting to get on her nerves. From slamming the door in her face and disregarding that she had ever been there, to ruining the time where it was only girls only with his peeping eyes and little comments, he was already on her bad side.

But, now that she thought about it, what boy who she suddenly found taking residence in the same house as her friend wouldn't be?

Grabbing a water from the fridge and strolling back out, she casually stopped by the thief, taking a short sip of the refreshing fluid. She laughed smugly when he leaned away from her, finding her presence quite disturbing after the visual threats she had given him, and spoke like she would if she was talking to an old friend. "Ha, Lifty, I know that Flaky let you in here out of the kindness of her heart, but don't take that for granted."

". . Whatever." He was close to making a gagging motion to her back as she left his side, but stopped when she whispered out coldly,

"Because if you do, I'll come and break all of your limbs. Flaky is near and dear to me, so don't think that you'll be able to get away with anything without me finding you." She paused, then added, "Also, keep your eyes off of her butt, unless you want to lose them."

Unless he wanted to lose them?

. . .

He wasn't one to get scared by anything, but her threat had been said in all seriousness, and that was enough to make him shudder and remind himself not to stare at the girl's bottom.

Plopping down on the couch and drinking her water, the violet eyed female grew an idea that was for her amusement and her amusement alone. And if anything went wrong, she wouldn't be the one who was affected by it. "Flaky, you know what Lifty just told me right now?" She suppressed her laughter when she saw the twin snap his head up at the mention of his name, eyes burning into her.

"W-what?"

She spun the bottle cap on the table in front of her, the smirk that she purposefully hid by facing the ground growing as she said, "He told me that he wanted to do some stretches with us; you probably didn't notice, but he was staring at you stretching the whole forty minutes; he obviously wants to join in, don't you think?"

Muttering what the hell and about to speak up to say that it was lies, he heard Flaky say through soft giggles that he might enjoy it. Stretching was for girls and gay pansies, he wouldn't find any sort of enjoyment out of it, especially since the girl who was out to get his eyes had suggested it. "No way in hell I will. You can't make me stretch for shit—"

"Come on! It'll be fun." Lammy had already gotten up and latched onto his arm, her steel grip restricting the blood from flowing into his arm and causing it to go numb in seconds. She looked at him, her eyes darkened ominously and her sweet smile turned impish. It was time to play the game . . of . . "Stretching!" And before he could protest further, she had shoved him to and down on a yoga mat.

"I don't want to stretch," he sounded far more than just annoyed, having to tell her it a second time. "I never said I wanted to, so just get off it and—" His breath hitched forward, the immense pain that was shot through his lower regions to his entire body before settling in his abdomen interrupting him.

Flaky gasped at the new pain and discomfort on his face. "Oh!"

While he had been trying to tell Lammy off for assuming that he wanted to do some lame stretches, she had dropped herself onto the ground across from him. The smile stuck on her face when she leaned over and grabbed both of his wrists in her strong grasp, her nails cutting into the veins that lay beneath the protective skin.

The feeling of being overstretched before he was ready for it was shadowed, changing to feel like nothing compared to when instead of spreading her legs to match his, soles of their shoes pressed against each other's, and she had put her plan into action. She thrust her foot in between the spaced out legs, a crazed smile distorting her features. Naturally, she hadn't held back on how much force she let her leg kick out on, so when it met with the region that males were to protect most . . well.

Lifty had cried out despite himself, his crotch being crushed by the heavy running shoes of the French girl – who was laughing openly, even if Flaky was there. "F-fuck!" Trying to pull his wrists out of her hands so he'd fall back against the floor, and avoid further pressure on the sensitive area, he was met with the realization that she wasn't going to let go of him. "You fucking bitch! L-let go—AHO!"

Tears pricked at his eyes as she flashed him with her wicked smile, throwing her head and body back and pulling his torso even closer to his leg. The closer he got to his leg, the further she moved back, the more force she'd apply to the foot that was squishing him. She didn't have mercy when she heard his pained groans or Flaky freaking out in the background, she was teaching him a lesson after all!

Aha! A lesson yeah!

The tip of her shoes dug into his stomach as he coughed, face scrunched in agony that could only be matched with—with . . with having your groin being run over by a monster truck.

"O-oh my God! Lammy! A-ah! Why does he look like that!?" Flaky was beyond panicking because even she knew that the lower region of a man was the most delicate part of them, and seeing her friend abusing him like that—it was scary. "L-let go! Stop it!"

Lammy opened both eyes, giddiness jumping in them, when she felt the thief reach his leg and touch the kneecap of it with his nose. Yes, his arms were being wrenched out of their sockets, his bottom was raised off of the ground, and he wouldn't be able to sit properly for a week, but he had done it, and that satisfied her for the moment.

"Alright, if you insist Flaky!" She released his wrists, nail marks encircling them, and let him drop back with a loud thump as his head hit the ground.

Now with a headache and the urge to vomit up the cereal he had eaten an hour before, Lifty's eyes stung as he hacked once more, curling up in a moaning mess of a ball. He would have flung every curse word he knew at the smug girl, but frankly, he thought he would wretch over the carpet if he opened his mouth.

Flaky bent down over him, stroking his arm soothingly and staring at her violet haired friend who was having a fit of laughter. ". . H-heh . ."

xXx

So, um, this happened XD Lammy is so mean to Lifty, so many people are lol :3 And this came out as long as I wanted it to be! Don't really have anything to say expect—I GOTZ TO PEE. And my mom is being scary D: