Crunched on the blue mat in the middle of the gym, with hair sticking to her skin drenched with sweat, Que finally realized what Zeus meant by tomorrow is going to be a tedious day
"Even sloths can do better than this, Que. Faster, lift yourself up, your knees shouldn't touch the mat. GO." He tapped the mat with a long dry wooden straw. The straw he'd used to chestise her whenever she accidentally support herself on her elbows or knees, which was all the time. Looking at the straw in front of her, she raised her blurry gaze to his face which wasn't very far from his crunched position in front of her.
Hate could only be the word that could describe her current feeling for him.
From his perfect feminine face to his sultry voice, his perfectly steroid body and even his fake straight hair which he'd dyed and cut. Oh, yes, he had cut his hair. It is now styled in a funky black mohawk in the middle of his head looking like a true devil.
