Matt nodded, flashing a quick smile before heading upstairs to grab whatever he needed to. He spent a considerate amount of time up there, looking for things and just well...thinking. Which means he had no idea Layla had headed downstairs. The red haired girl entered the living room shortly after getting a drink from the kitchen, her gaze meeting Trixies for a split second as she set her glass down. "Have I seen you before?" she asked, her tone somewhat polite as she settled into the chair by the window, well away from the sofa.

Trixie blew out a breath and glanced at the ceiling. That man really could take forever. She made eye contact with the other woman, letting out a another small sigh and pulling her phone out to scroll while she waited. She didn't look up at the question, simply kept scrolling. "I don't think so. Are you a friend of Matt's?" She asked flatly.

Layla leant back on her chair, raising her eyebrows at Trixie. "Not quite a friend but if that's what you wanna hear" she sighed, staring out the window the car parked in the driveway. She frowned at the angle of the parking, and turned her gaze back to the girl. "What are you actually doing here. Waiting for him to drop you home or something?" She asked, her tone becoming a little patronising. Matt was completely unknown of the encounter that could or could not get him in trouble, and he was obviously sitting on his bed looking at his phone, pretty much waiting for the blurry vision to settle.

"Sure." Trixie nodded flatly, glancing at her nails boredly. "Not quite, but if that's what you wanna hear." She said, a fake smile dancing across her lips as she looked at the other woman. She was at an advantage here- She knew about this girl, some of the backstory behind her. Why she was there. On the other hand, Laila had almost no idea who she was, which Trixie felt was a blessing.

Layla leant forward in her chair, staring down at the glass she had in her hand with a frown. It was tricky to think up what to say, this girl seemed..tricky. "i don't really care" she mumbled, rubbing her leg with the palm of her hand. She sat in silence for a couple minutes, before looking back up at Trixie, her gaze travelling. "So you're one of Matts many hookups no? You're not really his type, judging by the look of you." she smiled, taking a small sip of her drink, her gaze staying firmly on Trixie.

Trixie settled comfortably in her seat, almost as though it were her house. "I suppose I am, but he just keeps coming back." She smiled playfully. "Oh? And what is his type? Rich, snooty, women who act like teenage girls and have hair the color of carrots?" She asked lightly, her tone feigning polite conversation. She met Laila's stare with a challenging one, an eyebrow cocked with the insult.

"I suppose it is, yes. You know Matts coming back to Italy with me right? I'm supposed to be spending time with him here and then bring him back" Layla smiled, looking down at her phone for a split second, before turning her gaze back to Trixie. "You look like you crave attention so you might aswell make the most of his before he leaves. With me" She added, grabbing her empty glass and standing up. She passed the couch that Trixie was sat on as she went to the kitchen, brushing rather close to the girl, her forearm making harsh contact with her.

"I never knew his taste was that bad." Trixie nodded, giving a light shrug and listening to her drone on. "Oh, I know. But that's a nice little mission his daddy put you on. Shame that I don't remember asking." She shrugged lightly, continuing to scroll coolly through her phone. She rolled her eyes at the question. "Sure, I do. Takes one to know one, I suppose. Do you always overshare with people, or is it just that I'm so approachable?" She asked sarcastically. She looked up as she walked over, her hand raising as she brushed against her. With it, Trixie reached back and dug her fingernails into Laila's arm, holding her there and only then holding her gaze. "I don't know who you are, nor who you think you are, but I don't particularly care. What you don't seem to understand is that I'm not the kind of person you mess with. I've dealt with more than I cared to tonight, and my patience is thin. Don't touch me again. If you do, you'll have more than nail marks to show for our little talk." She said coldly, giving her arm a harsh grip before letting her go and going back to her phone with a sigh.

"Overshare? No? Are you approachable? No, you look like a bitch. I just thought you should know" Layla said sweetly, swivelling the glass in her hands in thought. She had about zero time to react to the sharp pain of the fingernails dug into her arm, the same arm with the hand holding the glass and she proceeded to drop it, the glass hitting Trixie before it hit the floor in pure shock. Her mouth opened to utter a weak apology though before she could, words were being directed her way and she had no time to regain composure. She yanked her arm out of the girls grasp after she had finished talking, looking at the smashed glass on the floor. "I hope you know your actions won't get you into Matts good books, whoever the fuck you are. You're not the one who's gonna end up with him, you're so far below his type. So far below his league it's crazy, and I'll be honest even if you were his type, he'll cheat on you, he'll treat you horribly. He'll use you for whatever until he's dragged back to Italy with me and his father, and that's that. You aren't worth it, Trixie. You're not worth anyone's time" She hissed, taking a deep breath as she finished talking. Every single word she regretted, especially as she could hear Matt traipsing down the stairs.

"Right, thanks for the friendly information then." Trixie said sarcastically. She barely flinched when the glass hit her, nor at the shattering of glass. She continued to stare at her phone as Laila spoke. "That's not what my actions were intended for. But do you really think yours will either?" She challenged, looking up to speak. "Right, did I say I wanted to marry him, end up with him? I'm not delusional enough to dream about 'ending up' with a 20 year old man for the rest of my life. Maybe I'm not in his league, but if you are? Then god, I feel bad for him and I'm glad I'm not." She scoffed after. "If he cheats on me, or treats me horribly, I'm not a dumb enough bitch to let him get away with it. You hit me with your arm and I dug my nails into your flesh. Do I seem like the kind of person who would let a man cheat on me and treat me like that? Because I'm not. Maybe you just don't want to admit that he'd rather grab any girl from America rather than be with the one living in his house. And I can assure you, if he's using me, it's because I'm letting him." She hissed, standing and giving the other woman a cold look. "Sure I'm not. But if I'm not worth anyone's time, much less his, what are you? Since he would prefer to bring another woman into this house to screw with rather than you, I think that says a whole lot." She hissed, taking an easy step over the glass and walking toward the kitchen. "Oh, and I would clean that glass up before he comes down." She called, her tone falsely sweet.