[She watches him with that deliberate impassive expression. If she gives him an inch, in letting him see her sympathise or freak out, he'll push harder and try to take the mile. She knows his type.
I'm not letting anyone push me around. Not even you, Angel. Sorry.
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Date: 2024-07-19 04:41 am (UTC)I'm not letting anyone push me around. Not even you, Angel. Sorry.
Instead she just takes another swig of her beer.]
Thanks for hearing me out.