“What’s that supposed to be?” Finian asks. “It’s a dragon,” I reply. “Present from my mum. He’s for luck.” “It’s a stuffed toy, how is it supp—” “Shut up, Finian.” “…Okay, are you hitting on me? It feels like you might be hitting on me.” “I’ll be hitting on your face in a minute, you fu—” “Legionnaire de Seel, can it,” Tyler says smoothly.
