"I love your inability to see me as a challenge, Blaise," she said with an eye roll, crossing her arms in front of her own chest to mirror his position and planting herself on the floor. Angelina could be patient. She could be zen. And she could most certainly do both of those things if it meant proving son of a bitch Zabini wrong.
"But then again, you were never that bright. So it's to be expected," she said venomously with a shrug, staring him down. No way was she doing this by herself. It just wasn't happening. She'd starve and die in this room first before she did anything that might accidentally prove him right. "Maybe I'll take a nap," she said out loud, taking out her wand and twirling it in her fingers, transfiguring a broken chair into a pillow and pulling it under her head. That's better.