Twenty Three.
"Perhaps I should let you two talk," Hammie chuckles nervously behind me. I'm to angry to even register how uncomfortable he must feel. A storm was brewing. Ben grimaces and nods at Hamilton's suggestion to vacate. Ben knew about the storm as well. Was it just me or did the two briefly exchange a apprehensive look? "No." My voice is louder than I mean it to be. I'd never been much for yelling, but now yelling didn't seem angry enough. "Ham, gimme your lighter." "My-" "Your lighter," I say through clench teeth. It's not like we met drinking tea, i***t. I don't halt eye contact with Ben as I hold out my hand expectantly. Ben looks braced for attack, eyes wide. When I feel the cool metal, I make a show of holding up the offending documents and holding it over the flame. The three of us
- Writer
