“Just relax! Don’t panic… I told you, you look perfect and they are going to love you.” Lucas chanted the same words for the nth amount of time and Arya rolled her eyes, moving her hands up and down the sides of her dress, trying to dry off her palms.
“But!”
“No buts!” he cut her off, his patience finally wearing off as he taunted her and she slipped her tongue out at him.
“Rude!” she mumbled under her breath and Lucas rolled his eyes, pressing the bell to the large mahogany wooden door and leaning his other hand into Arya’s side, who smiled slightly, grabbing his hand.
Her heart was racing like an Olympian’s horse inside her chest; her anxiety had broken any normal par she had ever experienced. She actually found facing a death situation with thousands of goons, pointing their guns
