"I can't do it. I can't… I'm scared…" Patricia whimpered, shaking her head and holding Angel's eyes.
Angel didn't carry the sharp expression he had earlier. Instead, his face softened, and he sighed heavily at this piece of work.
"Here," he breathed out, tossing her a can of beer, which he had bought when he left her earlier.
Patricia instinctively caught it in surprise, but what surprised her the most was when Angel suddenly plopped down a few feet from her. He leaned back on the railing, opening his own can of beer, his arm resting over his knees.
Angel chugged a mouthful, wincing even before he swallowed the beer. Arching a brow, he slid his eyes toward her.
"Are you drinking that or not?" he asked, his voice unfriendly, showing no care.
