"Hey Emily~"

Startled, your eyes darted to the living room.. and saw your dad, sitting in front of the TV. Hands crossed behind his head, legs spread over the leg rest of his brown leather lazy boy. The remote bouncing on his big belly as he changes body gestures like a switch, following the film's plot intently.

Standing there between the door frame, you tilt your head and cross your hands over your chest. Closing your eyes—exuding your inner peace—you focus on your six senses. And just by the sounds coming off the speakers, you already know—

YIPPEE KI YAY, MOTHERFUCKER!

Die Hard.

Again.

Throwing your head back, speechless, you sprint from the front door to him and complain, "God, dad—we have other movies in this entire galaxy—I told you to use Netflix!" you rush to his side to sit on the couch, grabbing the remote on his belly. However, once you pause the movie—you see the familiar interface the same moment you hear your dad shout,

"THIS IS NETFLIX!"

"Oh boy you're hopeless, dad," you sigh desperately, eye dropping in defeat. Suddenly, you're pulled by his arms so you're leaning onto him as he shouted right into your ears—

"YIPPEE KI YAY, MOTHERFUCKER!"

"Gosh! Dad, seriously you broke my ears!" you break away from him while petting your ears, pouting. Mr. Winters laughs a big roar in satisfaction. 'He's such a prankster' you thought. But his cuteness never lets you sulk for even just a minute—because now you're already breaking off into giggles while tickling him, slapping his round belly. He jumps, tickled by your action.

Just as you're about to tickle him even more, a burst of excitement echoes through the house as a furry streak darts into the scene. A massive pitbull, your family's beloved Tumba, bounds into the living room with wagging tail and eager eyes. Tumba senses the playful atmosphere and joins in, bouncing around your dad and you. His fluffy tail sways like a metronome of joy, and he nudges his cold nose against your hand. And you can't help but smile.

Your dad grins, clearly amused by Tumba's antics. "Someone's excited about a Die Hard marathon~" he chuckles, ruffling the dog's fur. Tumba seems to agree, barking happily. Amidst the canine chaos, your dad shakes his head, still chuckling. But then he shoots you a sideways glare as he remarks, "Unlike someone."

Replying with the same manner as you shake and squeeze Tumba's body in adoration, you tease, "Then Tumba over here~ has bad taste," to be replied with your dad's disgusted face and you laugh at the amusing sight. "Ok first off, why are you home already? Are you fired?!"

Pouting, Mr. Winters chubby cheeks deflated, his eyebrows frown by your disrespect. If you're not his only daughter he might've already made plans on when to kick you out. "First off, you're not funny. Second off—" in a blink, his frown turns into a smug smirk and proudly replies, "please—I'm a boss. I can go home as soon as I want to," giving you a confident shrug even though he knows it'll show more of his triple chin. Pressing the play button, he continues watching, ignoring your annoyed expression beside him.

"To have a Die Hard marathon? You're so annoying dad. Where's mom?" you ask, standing not far from the couch before starting to head up the stairs with your head still turned back, waiting for your dad's answer. Thinking you've called him to follow, Tumba gallops to you in excitement. Mr. Winters moves his eyes to you slightly, not wanting to miss a thing from Bruce Willis' action, replying,

"She's out getting some groceries. How's school?"

Aaand there it is. I think I'm having PTSD right now.

Pictures of those horrifying events come back to haunt you. Your face turns into a big scowl as you start turning around swiftly, taking big steps to the stairs as you lazily reply, "Meh."

At your dismissive answer, he pauses the TV again and argues, "What—you have friends, right? I'm watching your Tiktok closely you know—"

Now you're already on the fourth step as you give him a narrowed glare through the glass that's been separating the stairs and the TV, nonchalantly saying, "A few."

Taking your answers seriously, deeply concerned, he straightens his lazy boy just to continue his speech, "No you gotta make more friends, Emily—you gotta learn from Tyler—"

"Yeah yeah, be a social butterfly like Tyler blablabla—I'm gonna go upstairs, okay?" you dismiss. At the mention of that forbidden name, you roll your eyes and hurriedly leave the cringey conversation behind. Beside you, Tumba follows—before in an excited gallop he races you to your room.

As you hop on the steps, he shouts firmly, "Ok make friends, but no boyfriends, got it?!"

Hearing it the same time you arrived at the second floor, you stop on your tracks and stomp your feet on the ground in annoyance as you scream, "Oh my God, dad! Go watch Die Hard with Tyler!" Then you run to your room as you hear your dad's voice trail behind you.

"Oh that I will!"

"I am so removing him from my Tiktok. Tum, what do you think?"

Dropping to your bed, you talk to your American Pitbull like a crazy grandma. But just as you're about to close your eyes—you hear a knocking. You dart your eyes to the left, towards the source of the sound..

To find Cavill, behind your bedroom window. You roll your eyes to the routine.

Ugh, here we go again.

Oh, and did I mention that we're neighbors?

"Em! Psst! Em! Let me in!" he demands urgently, still knocking fiercely at your window. Now sitting on the corner of your bed, you glare at him with hands crossed on your chest. Still having the audacity to roll his eyes and glare back at you, he shouts, "Let. Me. In!"

Gritting your teeth to suck enough air audibly in annoyance, you lazily dilly-dally to the window. Tumba, definitely not mirroring your manner, runs to the window excitedly, wagging his tails to Tyler. At the sight, Tyler beams and makes a shushing gesture, asking Tumba not to bark. Tapping into his overflowing intelligence, Tumba comprehends and sits, now patiently waiting.

Letting out a grunt at the scene, you stare at him in resignation and only unlock the lid. Quickly turning away from him, you leave him to it—leaving him with a look of disbelief spread across his face. He lifts the window up himself, and slouches his tall figure to get in, and continues his rant, "Why the hell—" he climbs inside, grabs the window stool to steady himself, "did you—" grabbing the head of the window with his other hand, he finally brings his legs to your bedroom and complains, "lock your window?!"

In utter disbelief at his stupid question, you shoot him a death stare, "Precaution? Burglars? Intruders? Oh! Wanna know a secret?"

Not taking your sarcasm in a good manner, in a hush, he rants, "Well, I'm obviously not a burglar, or an intruder but—seriously?! After the stunt you just pulled?! You almost sent us to detention, bro—!" before Tumba jumps and gallops to his feet to welcome him. He squats and opens his arms to hug the large Pitbull, whispering, "That's my boy!"

However, as he turns his glare back to you, you grunt, "Ha! To still have the audacity and throw the blame on me!" pointing your index finger at him as you pace left and right, avoiding eye contact.

Taking those accusations to the heart, he stands back up and throws his hands in the air as he complains, "You're the one who didn't—" when his right hand suddenly yanks a pile of books to the ground! In alert, you stop pacing and turn to him. You look at each other in concern, eyebrows knitting, teeth gritting.. Tyler's face says busted all over as he mouthed, "Help—" but before you can respond, a roar echo through the house,

"Cavill we have a front. door young man!"

Followed with Tumba's bark at the familiarity of the big man's shout, you scratch your head for the millionth time he got busted. Tyler brings his hands behind his neck to bend it down in defeat as he shouts back, "Sorry Mr. Winters! Can't get rid of bad habits that easily!" then he lifts his eyes to you and grins. Lifting an eyebrow to you, he mumbles, "I guess."

Despite the displease you still feel towards him, you chuckle and roll your eyes. Maybe you're too used to this anyway, or maybe his grin is just too powerful to shove all the other negative energy you have in you.

"Well thank God Janet loves you so I don't have to kick your ass right now!"

Another silly line that of course—dad has to say.

"Oh and say hello to that other pain in the ass Greg for me would ya? And your mom too!"

And with another shout, Tumba runs to the door. Maybe to your dad—or whatever activity he chooses. Clenching unclenching your knuckles out of annoyance, you start to feel the urge to run and tickle your dad again—but you restrain the thought. You give a hard sigh, lift your shoulders before crossing your hands on your chest, snickering to Tyler, "Oh geez you two are such an annoying combo."

With eyes not leaving yours, Tyler's lips form a lopsided grin as he chuckles, "Love you too Mr. Winters and I will!"

But then you see something flicker on his eyes.. and that's when the grin transforms into something darker.. before he winks and opens his mouth to say—

"By the way! I have a daily report—"

Your eyes round in horror, you run closer to him in haste and point your index finger to his face, "No. Don't you dare pull this again—"

But seeing his smirk, you know it's no point. He's gonna do it anyway. You struggle to close his mouth with your hands in panic as he keeps dodging away swiftly—then that's it.

He drops the bomb.

"I steered away another boyfriend today!"

Cavill shouts in confidence, eyes looking down on you, glinting. Amused as he watches your every change of expression. You, a different sight though. You bring down your hands slowly, your tongue protruding in your cheek. You're pissed.

So pissed.

Mr. Winters on the other hand, sounds so pleased with the never-ending voluntary help from your very bestfriend as he sings, "Alllright my boy! Always a pleasure doing business with you!"

You see Tyler has already made himself comfortable on your bed, proudly falling dramatically in the center with both arms stretched on the soft mattress. You maintain an icy glare at him as he sits, leaning on the headboard and spreading his arms wide to rest them on the top of the headboard. With a smirk plastered on his face, eyes not leaving you, Cavill beams and smirks,

"As do I, Mr. Winters."

Oh how you want to slap that victory out of his face. You drag your feet to the corner of your bedroom, scheming on what more revenge you can bring to him. And then.. an idea flashes in front of you! Not perfect, but—it might just be enough. For now.

Leaning on the dresser behind you, you prepare yourself. Cavill tilts his head as he annoyingly, yet attentively watches your face as you fake a pout, faking your surrender as he jokes, "Aww Winny don't be mad—"

When objects start flying towards him.

You throw anything you could find on your dresser—anything—even if it's your undies you just don't give a damn. You need to hold him off for this noble cause. "You both. are ruining. my highschool life!" you scream before you sprint through the door, disappearing in a flash of lightning. Not ready with your antics, he covers his beautiful face before jumping from the bed—

"Win—Em what the fuck?!" he shouts behind the door you slammed at him.

You run downstairs hurriedly, skipping two or three steps to make you even faster. You're running from a pitcher who actually hits for God's sake, your life's on the line here! "Passing through!" you shout as you disturb your dad's marathon session with Tumba. By the sound of it, he's in Die Hard 2 now.

Startled by the sudden course of lighting and thunder, your dad shouts, "Hey! Where are you going young lady!" Contrary to your dad's reaction, focusing on the marathon and already in a lying comfortable position, Tumba watches you in disinterest. Trailing behind him, your voice leaves a legacy as it echoes through the room,

"YIPPEE KI YAY, MOTHERFUCKER!"

"The f—who taught you that!" he complains—but then he contemplates.. before he shrugs and mumbles, "Yippee Ki Yay to me, I guess." As if he's a psychic, he says, "When you get there, say my regards to them and you're very welcome—and very encouraged to stay there late, you hear me?! I'm going to have a date night with your mother! As a precaution you can use earplugs when you get home—"

The last thing you hear is regards, since you're already outside and have closed the front door behind you—again—to hold him off. As for a figure, standing still on the stairs.. the victim stares blankly to Mr. Winters while muttering,

"Yuck."

Surprised with the sudden low mocking sound, Mr. Winters jumps on his lazyboy and turns to see Tyler, holding onto the railing, withholding a puke.

"Let's pretend you didn't hear that. It was meant for my daughter."

You slam the front door open without knocking, already knowing how someone must've left the door unlocked before leaving. Heart beating in your chest, your breathing sounds so loud it comes out like a horse's breathing. You stand there with dramatic light shooting towards you from above, both hands holding your knee for support, panting, catching for breath.

"Emily my dear?"

When a woman in their 40s strides to you elegantly, crinkles on her forehead doubles in worry. Her voice is soft, yet crisp like expensive sweet cherry candy. She's wearing a brown one piece business suit, probably just got home from work.

She's holding an apple juice though, from the kitchen then. Ah yes, this is Tyler's mom, Violet. Elegantly pretty, isn't she? See how her Italian descend glowing so vividly? I think that's where Tyler got those eyebrows—

A tall man with great posture follows from behind and shouts, "Heyyy pretty Emily, how's the big boss?" His sharp edged nose takes most of the attention as he greets you cheerfully. All black from head to toe, so Tyler.

And this.. is Tyler's dad, Greg. Have you noticed his British accent? Yeah, that's where Tyler has that mixed.. weird accent. Yes. He's slim. Definitely not like my dad. And yes. Our family's close because he and my dad's bffs. Yes. That's why we're neighbors. And.. yes. That's how me and Ty have known each other since we're babies.

Ok but that's not exactly the topic I want to talk about right now—

"H—hello Mr. and Mrs. Cavill—I—I have news—"

Stammering, you pant between your words, trying to get it out nicely but failing miserably. Still, not forgetting to close the door behind you swiftly as you walk to them.

Mrs. Cavill ushers you to the nearest chair in concern as she hesitated, "Oh! Were you running? Calm down honey deep breaths—"

"I'm running from—"

Before you even get to sit, the front door opens with a bang! Tyler comes in, also rushing in adrenaline. With a hand leaning on the door panel, he catches his breath before muttering under his breath, "Winters—I swear if you dare—"

"Tyler has a new girlfriend already!"

Being a snitch that you are, you shout, breaking the news to his parents.

And like a light switched off.. the whole living room went silent. No cheers, no worries, no greetings. Just dead silent. You see Tyler's face evolve from a shock to a frown.. from a frown to a panic.. He darts his eyes to his dad.. who's expression went from shock to amusement—but nevermind Greg, Greg is chill. But then he moves his sight to his mom..

"Tyler Cavill."

She said it with a stern voice, enough to make the lights in the room flicker. Tyler stares at his mom in horror as she continue with a shout—

"EX—"

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Cecylia Costania @rcpcswrites