“Stop elbowing me, you big oaf!” I whisper-shout. “Then move,” he growls. “For a tiny little thing, you take up a lot of fucking room.” “Moi?” I ask, aghast, a hand to my chest. “Have you seen the circumference of one of your arms? It's honestly concerning. You probably need to see a doctor for it.” “I’m not the one who needs a doctor. Maybe you should go lie down. You still have a concussion, and it’s clearly warping your judgment.” I narrow my eyes, huffing with irritation. “You are impossible,” I snap.
Funny
