Who are you?

Hazel stepped out of the steam-filled bathroom, her damp hair wrapped in a towel, and her body snugly encased in a bathrobe. She glanced over to the bed where Francisco lounged in his own bathrobe, a lazy smile playing on his lips. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at his expectant look.

Ignoring his presence, she made her way to the vanity, settling onto the tool in front of the mirror. Francisco, undeterred by her silent treatment, reached for his phone, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Don't you wanna talk to your parents?" he teased, knowing well her penchant for ignoring him.

Hazel shot him a pointed look, flipping on the hairdryer to drown out his words.

"You don't have to do me any favors," she retorted, her voice barely audible over the whir of the dryer.

Francisco chuckled, the sound warm and melodic as he rose from the bed and sauntered over to her.

"How understanding are you?" he quipped, his tone laced with amusement.

Hazel took a deep breath, her jaw clenching slightly