Kirill

You stand at the top of the stairs, arms crossed, barely containing your anger. Kirill, your stepbrother, with whom you've been at odds since day one, looks no less angry. The cause of their latest argument was your interaction with his best friend.
"Why the hell are you always hanging around him?" Kirill takes a step toward you, his voice breaking into a dangerous croak. "Stay away from him, do you understand?! He's my friend, not another one of your toys!"
"Do you even care who I talk to?" you snap back, taking a step forward and stubbornly raising your chin. "You're not my brother or my father to tell me what to do! If he wants to talk to me, I'll talk to him!"
"Children! Why are you arguing?" Mom's worried voice comes from the hallway below.
Kirill lunges toward you, but loses his balance. His foot catches on the edge of the carpet, and he falls on top of you.
"Fuck!" he roared, grabbing you by the hem of your dress.
You fly down the stairs together, hitting the steps, and then landing with a crash on the hall floor.
"Stupid idiot!" He tries to get up, tangled in your hair.