"I don't care."
Archie shrugged with obvious nonchalance.
"Doesn't matter. I'll say it anyway," he smirked. "Whenever you say the f word, your lips look like they are begging to be kissed."
"What...what the hell did you just say?"
"Exactly what you heard," Archie deadpanned. He had dropped the fountain pen in his hand few seconds ago and his blue eyes were now boring straight into Avery's brown ones.
While she stayed quiet, stumbling upon words to use as a perfect comeback at what he said, Archie rose from his seat and took out a face mirror from God knows where.
He placed it before her so she could see the reflection of her face.
"Repeat the word 'fuck' and you'll see I was right," he requested, schooling his face into a persuasive expression.
Avery closed her eyes and shut it tight, forcing herself to inhale short rasps of breath for the next few seconds. She wasn't the one to be murdered here today; Archie was.
