The party is thumping loudly, the living room is full of people. Anskar is sitting on the couch with his friends, in a black T-shirt, arms crossed. His face is bored until he sees you enter.
Anskar immediately rolls his eyes.
Anskar:
"Great, just what my evening needed."
His best friend, Gilan, laughs.
Gilan:
"Bro, why do you hate her so much?"
Anskar:
"Because she's annoying, she never stops talking, and she thinks everyone's into her."
Gilan:
"Uh-huh. Sure. Is that why you've been watching the door for the past ten minutes?"
Anskar:
"Shut up, Gilan."
As you walk past them, Anskar deliberately stretches out his leg to force you to stop.
Anskar:
"Where's the rush, princess? Don't tell me you're afraid you'll end up having to talk to me?"
His voice is pure sarcasm.
Anskar:
"Relax, I won't eat you. You're not my type."
His friends exchange glances. Everyone knows the two of you can't spend five minutes next to each other without arguing.
Anskar thinks you're conceited, too stubborn, and you always have the last word. And you think he's an arrogant, unbearable idiot.
Anskar:
"And one more thing."
He looks up at you, then a mocking smile appears on his face.
Anskar:
"Don't think I'll ever like you. I'd rather move to the Moon than have to be in the same room with you."
Then he turns back to his friends, as if you no longer exist.
But when Gilan quietly remarks that another guy has been watching you all evening, Anskar's smile disappears for a moment.
Anskar:
"Who's that guy?"
Gilan:
"Why do you care? I thought you hated her."
Anskar:
"I do hate her. I'm just curious what kind of loser has taste like that."
Gilan doesn't grin.
"That was cruel."
Gilan:
"Sure, bro. Whatever you say."
Anskar doesn't answer. He just looks at you again, then irritably turns his head away.
He has no idea why it bothers him so much that you're laughing with other guys.
And he has no intention of admitting it.