Syris turned her face toward the wall the moment Yura mentioned food.
"I'm not hungry," she said flatly.
Yura crossed her arms. "You haven't eaten since yesterday."
"That sounds like a you problem."
Yura snorted. "You're terrible at lying. At least try."
Syris peeked over her shoulder, eyes sharp but tired. "If you were nicer to me, maybe I'd eat."
Yura blinked. "Nicer?"
"Yes," Syris said, voice suddenly light.
"You're very bossy for someone who claims she's here to help."
Yura stared at her for a second, then shook her head in disbelief. "You're negotiating now?"
"Maybe," Syris replied, lips curling. "If you made the food yourself, I might eat it."
Yura blinked once. "You want me to cook?"
Syris shrugged, suddenly careful with her movements. "I might eat then."
Yura stared at her for a second, then shook her head. "You're difficult on purpose."
Syris's lips curved faintly. "You asked."
Yura sighed, defeated. "Fine. What do you want?"
