"I don't need to talk to you," Daisy answered in a mutter under her breath, hoping he would assume she wasn't in and would go away. The little prick could direct his tantrum towards someone else for once; it was Saturday, Daisy deserved a break. Since even talking to Alex was an increasingly frustrating practice, she had yet to figure out how to convince him to go meet a weird demon dude, or really do much of anything that was any good to anyone. At least keeping him here meant she could keep an eye on him.
She was not in luck, though, because of course the little fuckhead had to go peaking into her room in a fucking endearing display of his lack of concern for privacy. Daisy was forced to look away from her splayed hand, nails drying, and polish brush still in the other, to glare at him from her tilted back seat at her desk, refusing to move any further. That only lasted as long as the ground was stable, though, and she found herself thunking the chair down onto all four legs, almost upsetting the nailpolish bottle in the process, wet hand fluttering desperately not to touch anything.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" she asked, put her gaze was on the ground, like she could find some other source of the quake. She hadn't done that, had she?