I know, intellectually speaking, that I have zero reason to be so damn angry. It doesn’t change the fact that I want to get up, cross to that doofus at the counter and rip his fucking head off. That puny guy didn’t even glance in Emmaline’s direction since he walked in. Which is just a sign of what a dumbass he is, because she’s always the first thing I look at in every room. Clearly, he hadn’t noticed her at all, or how fucking gorgeous she looks today. Her pale, whitish-blonde hair is in a side braid, across her shoulder—like Elsa. Fuck off, I know my animated princesses.
