"Stop your complaining," she said for the fourth time as they continued to walk.
"How can I not?" he replied, shivering from the cold. He attempted to warm himself with his hands, but it proved insufficient. He was wet, dirty, and growing increasingly frustrated with the girl next to him. "Aren't you cold?" he asked, and Melia shook her head. "I don't believe it."
"Don't believe it," she shrugged. "You're clearly exaggerating. It's not even that cold."
"We're in London," he exclaimed. "In the middle of winter."
"Is it my fault that you got wet?" she asked him. "No," she responded, giving Elijah a scornful look. "Look at me like that again, and you'll see what I'm capable of doing to you."
"I'm dying to see it," he said sarcastically. Melia stopped walking, and Elijah looked at her as he approached. Melia's expression indicated that she felt like throttling him.
That's a good point, Elijah.
"What the fuck do you have against me?" Melia finally broke the silence.
