I shooed all the guys out of my room, not willing to deal with all of them right now.
Getting out of bed, I disappeared into my space for a long, hot shower. I think I washed my hair four times to get out all of the saltwater crap that was in it and then started to scrub my skin until it was raw. I was never getting into the ocean ever again. I didn't care if it would save the entire human race; my two feet were remaining firmly on the dry ground.
"What happened to you wanting a yacht?" asked Violence as she strolled into my room and went to go sit on my bed. Her red dress fanned out around her in an effortless beauty. I would fully admit to being jealous.
"I wanted a yacht?" I asked, confused. My memory was a bit sketchy when it came to the water and submarine, but I don't remember wanting a yacht.
