Harry and I are the type to take two steps forward and four steps back. Firearms training hadn't been easy and in result, it had torn up our relationship pretty good. Fights had broken out between the two of us and I was reminded by my cut up hand from the first fight that started it all.
"Stop staring at me," I told him while I sat on the couch utterly bored to death. There were many opportunities to do things but Harry had restricted me. He was building to my growing irritation with his odd staring.
"I'm not staring, your the one giving me the death glare." Harry shrugged back almost knowing that he was infuriating me. Sometimes I swear he did things to intentionally piss me off.
"Maybe I wouldn't be giving you the alleged death glare if you weren't staring at me!" I pushed my hair aw
