She engrossed herself with watching the clock as it ticked away. It was eight forty-five at night, and she had cleansed herself up and changed into a fresh tee and shorts. More than two hours had passed since Cree's bothersome request, and she had never felt as idle as she had been tonight ever in her life.
Finally, she gathered all the courage she could muster, to open the door with a slight creak, as silently as she could and stuck her head out through the small gap to observe what the Icy Devil was up to. At first, she had thought that he was probably waiting for her answer now, but she realized he was sitting in the living room, tapping his fingers repeatedly on his lap while intensely studying the screen of his notebook computer. She was taken by how focused he had been, while clad in striped pyjamas and wearing a dorky-looking pair of glasses.
