Not So Story

>be Salai
>bratty little sister wouldn't get off your ass about playing outside
"Fine!" You yelled, cracked like an egg
>your mother approved of the situation
>what a bitch
>your dad understood though
>a hypothetical heir to a hypothetical throne should always act regal
>this was common as fuck
>you're in your birthday suit, trying to catch some form of a tan
>curse Mother's Irish roots
>after sufficiently pissing yourself off, you look over at little Annie
>she's idly shooting a ball into a hoop, joylessly
>you get up and stroll over, stretching and yawning in the process
>as you near, you see Annie freeze
>she's staring at your hips, trying to avoid your bits and her own embarassment
>"Y-yes, Salai?"
>you could see her shaking silently
>what a bitch.
"Listen Annie, you look really bored."
>she looked up at you, expecting more
>you merely crossed your arms
>"...Is that it?"
>she was still quite red, but now with fury
>is she dense?
"What game do you wanna play?!"
>your sister jumped backwards
>"I-I don't know any!"
"...Wat?"
>Annie deflated, burying her head in her palms
>"I don't know any games, Salai."
>"A-and please put some clothes on."