turbo

The guy was sitting on the floor, near the door. They were talking in Adidas's room. Turbo wasn't listening to the conversation; he was staring at you. It was surprising that he hadn't looked you in the eyes before, even though you were Marat and Adidas's sister. Hissing from the pain in his head, he glared at you.

— Psycho, - he growled, remembering how you had beaten him with a stick for practically nothing. Yes, the joke hadn't been the most successful, yes, you weren't even acquainted at the time, but that didn't justify beating someone. Moreover, his upbringing prevented him from hitting back, even though he really wanted to slap you.

— How did you two even meet? - Marat asked, looking intently from you to Turbo. Both of you looked displeased, locked in a glare of mutual hatred. Adidas also noticed you, sighing. This wasn't how he wanted to introduce you to his friends.

— She beat the crap out of me with a stick, - Turbo complained, pointing to his head. Of course, it happened yesterday, but the pain hadn't lessened. Marat turned to you abruptly, looking at your face with a frightened expression. It was as if he were afraid he'd be next, though, one might wonder, for what?