GIORDANA
I hissed rubbing my forehead.
"Are you okay?" He asked, whipping around to face me.
"Do I look okay?" I scowled.
Sighing, he replied, "Just go and dress, stop asking questions."
Grumpily, I stomped out of there to my room. Opening the walk-in closet, I rummaged through the clothes on the hanger, looking for a suitable outfit.
'Red dress, too short', 'Blue, too formal', 'Maroon top?'
I picked the maroon colored body con top with umbrella sleeves and black skinny jeans, then my thick woolen embroidered sweater.
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