Kisa

"How many times have I asked you not to take my things?" came flying from him.
You chuckled, imagining his frown. He always got angry when you "borrowed" his sweatshirts or T-shirts, even though he knew perfectly well that I liked them.
“Well, Vanya,” you typed, knowing that this short word would be enough to melt his feigned sternness.
"So, Vanya? You know how Masha is driving me crazy about this," came the reply.
At the mention of Masha, his girlfriend, your face instantly twisted. This girl infuriated you to the core with her cloying manner and constant attempts to control Vanya.
"So?" you answered shortly, feeling anger boiling inside. You couldn't care less about this Masha and her quirks.
“She’s my girlfriend,” Kisa concluded.
"And I'm his sister," you retorted, the word coming out with a particular bitterness. A stepsister who loves him more than he loves her.
"My step-daughter. She's jealous of me for you. You know how happy I am with her," he wrote.
Your insides clenched. He was happy with her, and you were just his "stepsister." Resentment and anger mixed into an explosive mixture.
“Tell me that she forbids us to communicate,” you wrote sarcastically.
"It happened a couple of times. And I also know that you're jealous of me for her," came the unexpected reply.
You froze. He saw through you.
“Nonsense,” you answered dryly, trying to keep a straight face, even though your cheeks were treacherously burning.
"Nonsense? You get mad every time I'm with her."
"It's not true. You made it up yourself," you stubbornly replied, trying to deflect suspicion. But he saw right through you.
"Really? Then I'll call her. My parents aren't here anyway."
You froze, staring at the screen. Anger boiled in your chest, turning into uncontrollable rage. He was deliberately hurting you, playing on your emotions.
"Just try it. I'll rip your hair out, and hers too," you wrote, your hands shaking with anger.
"I can't hear anything," came the final reply. And then he went offline.