She grabbed his chin in one hand and bury her gaze in his eyes, "What. Did. He. Say."
Pride gulped as a sweat drop trickled down his temple, "It's just been a while since we had fun with this camera. He missed having pictures of us around. That's all. I swear."
"Hey! Quit mackin' on my car, will you? Get a room," a deep and husky voice confronted.
Wrath released her hand and whipped her head around to face the man, "Okay, pal."
"Scram, losers," the man spat as he lit a self-rolled cigarette and leaned on the hood of the car.
His face was darkened by the stadium light behind him, but it was clear that he was well-built and of a sizeable height. His back was turned against the two with his arms folded in a pretentious way. The sudden appearance of the mystery man had seemed to catch Wrath's attention, though Pride couldn't possibly comprehend her reasoning.
