The Bet
If she was able to kill with her eyesight, her gaze at this point would have killed at least the entire platoon.
“What are you talking about, Jo?” He said innocently; struggling to cover his ankle with the trouser, while maintaining eye contact with her, hopping to distract her.
“I already said, stop the fucking farce!”
“Be reasonable, Jo. I am not late, by any means.”
“Shut up! Show me your fucking ankle.” She ordered, still with that killer twinkle in her eyes.
“I am fine, Jo.” He said stoically. He didn’t even move as he was not willing to show her already blue and swollen ankle.