“Rule number three. Do not make me do any physical activity,” he snarled. “What part of ‘I am hungover’ did you not fucking understand!” My eyes burned brightly, promising tears. “I’m going home, Fisher. You can’t stop me.” He jabbed me with his sword, pricking me with its wicked point. “Apparently, I can.” “You’re such a bastard,” I hissed. He bared his teeth. “And you are a lying little thief.”
If he drug me across a floor i wouldn't just lay there🫣🤭
