#Chapter217
I text him impulsively, enraged that he’s such an insensitive moron and a complete dickhead at the most inappropriate times.
‘Sometimes I really don’t like you! London X’
I stick my nose in the air in a snooty mood, glad that I feel better from talking to him and less crazy scared that he’s riding off to be executed, even if he has annoyed me. I feel dumb now I think about it. Riled, that, as per usual, he had to go and ruin something nice with the plonk of a man he is.
‘I’m into that. And thanks … For admitting you sometimes do. Now stop bothering me! X’
Prick.
I wander listlessly around the club, picking my nails, watching the floor without much interest. Angst is my new current mood, and I am finding it hard to breath with the weight that has settled on my chest. The hours have been dragging so slowly it feels like time has stopped, and I’m obsessively clock watching like a freak. Mind unable to stay with my task at hand.
