Freyja was collecting glasses from the liquor cabinet and so her back was to her brother while she frowned at his comment, finding it strange. I hope the cat doesn't sit on me because I just washed my jeans? Since when was Freyr worried about a bit of cat hair? And one of her cats, especially?
But it had been ten years since she'd seen him. Ten years perhaps without having her herds of cats around to bother him. Things changed.
She brought the glasses over to the counter and focused her attention on the question about the building manager instead of that feeling of how well do we even know each other anymore?. "Oh, he's quite old and a little smelly," she told Freyr with a small laugh. "He seems like a pleasant man, but not lover material. Perhaps if my rent bounces I might change my mind though." She winked at Freyr like it was a joke, when it very much was not a joke. If Freyja wanted something, she was more than willing to fuck her way to it.