Val gets sharper with Diego

That evening she was cooking dinner and Diego came in to ask about borrowing the car. Normally, she would’ve listened patiently, maybe even encouraged him to plan something fun with his friends. But this time she just smirked faintly, looking him up and down in a way that made him feel… smaller.

“Car? What for?” she asked, leaning against the counter. “You don’t exactly scream ‘responsible driver,’ you know. More like… lost puppy.”

Diego frowned. “I just need it for—”

“—for what? To go get rejected by that girl from your class again?” she cut in, her voice sweet but sharp. The teasing wasn’t playful—it had bite.

Over the next few days, those little digs became more frequent. If he left laundry on the floor, she’d shake her head and mutter, “Pathetic.” If he complained about school, she’d grin and say, “Aww, poor baby. Want me to write you a note so the big, bad homework doesn’t hurt your feelings?”

Her tone was light, but there was an edge to it—a kind of enjoyment in watching him squirm. And sometimes, when she walked past him in the living room, she’d flick the back of his head or nudge his shoulder just a little too hard, the way a mean older sister might.

It wasn’t enough to be obvious—not yet—but Diego could feel something in her changing.