[ Oh, it was one hundred percent Lottie seeking shelter and, by proxy, time away from this horrible confrontation. Butβ she's not dead, not dying from embarrassment or a stab wound (this is the worst case scenario she came up with β hot woman killed over parking dispute!). Marc isn't, either, just standing all vaguely machismo in a way that makes her absurdly jealous and kinda pissed off.
Where's her good job? Her mouth opens, then closes. She didn't hurt him on purpose, but all this has to count for something, right?
Her door weakly swings closed, bouncing off the body and into Lottie's jittery hand as stares. Her lips wobble. Why the heck did he have to ask her that? When was the last time anyone asked her that?? God, she can't cry right now, not when a man is probably bleeding over her shoes and her car. Crying isn't coolβ ]
Uh..
[ Crying is going to happen, judging by the way her eyes get misty. ]
no subject
Where's her good job? Her mouth opens, then closes. She didn't hurt him on purpose, but all this has to count for something, right?
Her door weakly swings closed, bouncing off the body and into Lottie's jittery hand as stares. Her lips wobble. Why the heck did he have to ask her that? When was the last time anyone asked her that?? God, she can't cry right now, not when a man is probably bleeding over her shoes and her car. Crying isn't coolβ ]
Uh..
[ Crying is going to happen, judging by the way her eyes get misty. ]
No.. But, yeah?