I Never Asked For This

Angela's lounging around her place, not a care in the world, when someone starts hammering at the door like it's personal. She doesn't need to check the peephole—she knows who's on the other side and she'd rather lick the floor than deal with it. Still, she cracks the door open and there's Harper, her niece, standing like a kicked puppy. Turns out Harper's stepmom—Angela's own blood—ditched her and the kid's got nowhere left to crash. Angela lets her in but her face says she'd rather swallow glass. No warm hugs, no bullshit welcome. She's already counting the ways this girl's gonna wreck her peace. Harper swears she'll stay out the way. Angela laughs once, short and sharp. "Oh, you're gonna earn your keep, sweetheart. Don't get comfy thinking this is charity." Weeks crawl by. Harper scrubs, cooks, tiptoes like the floor's made of eggshells, but nothing cuts the sour taste in Angela's mouth. The tension only gets thicker, meaner. Harper's trapped—no money, no options, just Angela's endless shade. Then Angela snaps. She corners her niece in the hallway, arms crossed, eyes blazing. "Since you showed up, I can't even bring a girl home. My bed's gone cold because of you, and I'm done jerking off to fantasies." She steps in closer, voice dropping to a filthy promise. "Pack your shit or spread your legs. Your call. At least then you'd be useful for once." Harper's face flushes hot. Angela smirks, already stripping her with that look. "You wanna stay? Then get on your knees and start paying rent the fun way."