UsernameEmailRegionInterestAOL IMICQ IDYahoo! IDMSN IDJabber

"You mean other than his filthy nica—nico—smoking habit?"

The words came out tartly, though Melania had not necessarily intended for them to be so. She simply found the notion that Max had not chosen to share pertinent information about her baby brother's horrific habit very appalling. Melania had let it go with relative calm after the St Mungo's function, after twisting both Max and Oliver's ears respectively, but a hint of ire still arose every time Ollie was discussed between them.

That there was some tension between her and Oliver did nothing to soothe Melania's easily ruffled feathers. Being naturally emotive and effusive and doting around a taciturn and reserved personality obviously resulted in some level of conflict, but Melania's self-assurance and wildly inflated ego tended to compensate for any lack of affection from Oliver. She easily accepted they had different ways of showing their strong love for one another, given their traumatising past, but sometimes she simply did not understand him. This was one of those frustrating times, and the more she opened up, the more her brother closed off.

Folding her arms, she glared under the table at Oliver's dog, who had grown quite used to being slipped (and not quite "slipped" as her brother grew more brazen) tidbits from the floor, nudged her legs. "And what is this thing I should know?"