#Chapter123
He’s still grasping one of my arms tightly even though I have stopped doing anything except icily hating on him from my frigid pose as he turns me towards him. My impulsive self, defensively poised like a stealth ninja, my arms across my chest and I lift my chin defiantly to meet his gaze.
/"We will talk, we need to talk. First, I need to deal with her, then us. Sophie, this isn’t what you think, just give me a chance to get my head straight. I am still so fucking drunk, and this is like a punch in the face to wake up to./" He’s trying to pull me close to him, to bring my face to his with gentle fingers cupping it, but I shove him off, his hands dropping when faced with an angry fireball version of me. Even Arrick knows when to leave alone and I’m guessing the blood-curdling look of rage on my face is more than a threat. I glare at him, heart breaking, head a mess with confusion and tears brimming that he, of all people, could do this to me again.
