My legs turned to jelly and if he wasn’t holding me on my waist, I would have already fallen upon hearing his voice.
“The hell?” It was supposed to be a shout but it turned soft. “Why are you here?”
“Watch your mouth,” he whispered one more time. “I won’t be gentle with you.” His every breath that perched on my skin was sending me tickles on my stomach.
I want to believe it was because of too much acidity from the liquor. And to support that I am not feeling anything from him, I stirred my irritation.
“I won’t either,” I said and pulled out myself from him.
I faced him with enough distance and glared at him. He was also looking at me with his sharp stare. I noticed his bloodshot eyes and I knew he was drunk.
“What? If you’re still mad at me then fine, I won’t insist on us talking.”
