Her heels were raised high, evidence enough that she'd literally kicked my door open and the satisfaction on her face afterward was unmistakable.
"Phew!" She dusted off her hands dramatically. "That Taekwondo class was worth every penny."
Then she turned to me, clapping her hands together so loudly I flinched.
"Alright, Roman! You've been moody enough. Time to get up."
I stared at her, my jaw tightening.
For a moment, she just stared back.
At the bottles scattered across the coffee table. At the overflowing ashtray. At me, slumped on the couch in wrinkled clothes, unshaven and hollow-eyed.
She looked me up and down, her nose wrinkling slightly.
"Jesus, you look like shit. Handsome shit, I'll give you that, but still shit."
"Get out," I said, my voice low and dangerous.
She flinched, just barely but didn't back down.
"This isn't your business, Ash." I continued.
