[Lucky as an Irish spearman. The dismissal irked her, but the comment to follow sends a ripple of goosebumps up and down her flesh. Fumbling a bit, she still manages to catch the googles when they're tossed to her, on reflex more than anything, cheeks reddening. They dangle from one hand, as she draws her legs up close to her with arms wrapped around them.]
Idiot. [She scowls at him from over her knees.] First dates with you must look like zeppelin crashes.
no subject
Idiot. [She scowls at him from over her knees.] First dates with you must look like zeppelin crashes.