Amelia Cobb didn't need to see him to know it was Christopher Robinson.
From his dark and gloomy voice, she could tell without guessing that he was furious, probably wanting to pin her to the ground and rub against her.
Amelia wanted to pull her hand away, but it was held tighter.
In the dimly lit hall, there were only continuous sarcastic comments and the gradually brighter flashlight illuminations.
Amelia and Christopher Robinson stood stiffly in the dark crowd, and she didn't need to think to know that the power outage at this time must be his doing.
A second before the lights in the room turned on, Christopher Robinson yanked Amelia out of the hall.
Some people sulk when they're in a bad mood, and some try to cheer themselves up by finding entertainment. Amelia was the latter.
But Christopher Robinson clearly couldn't accept that.
The June night was hazy, neon lights illuminating the brightly lit bar street.
