''You're a psycho.''
''You've said that already.''
''Well I'm just restating that fact so it will sink in. Did you really have to throw me over your shoulder?''
His eyes show no hint of remorse. If anything, I think he enjoyed carrying me like I'm a sack of beans. ''We need to talk.''
No, we don't.
The four walls of the bedroom seems so small now and I feel like an ant under his gaze. My back is planted on the locked door and a million questions are running through my mind. We're meant to be 'making out', hell, I'm pretty sure Mariah is convinced that we're doing just that.
''How are you doing?"' he asks.
''Why are you asking?''
''Believe it or not, I'm not the bad guy, Princess.''
