He's at my work.
I'm fuming with rage.
My head was just beginning to tame its thoughts by not seeing or hearing him. And I just know, that they're going to arouse the moment he opens his mouth. I don't care why he's here. I don't care if he's going to buy something. I just want him to leave, to never show his face again.
His hair is in all possible directions, giving him the impression of bedhead. At a split second, I notice his bottom lip is split and his right eye slightly swollen and purple. The poor bastard got in a fight. As he places his left hand on the door handle he quickly pulls his hoodie over his head. Once he pulls on the door, the words just leave my lips.
"Get. Out." I say through my teeth. Blue lifts his head and meet my eyes. They widen in surprise but instantly hide behind utter distaste. He ducks his head and pulls out five dollars, tossing them on the counter.
"Just give me a pack of cigarettes." I lazily toss the pack and push the money in the cash register. He stands there with the pack in his hands, and I slowly notice he's reading my little message at the back. A second later, he snorts in mockery and stuffs the pack in his pocket, and he leaves the station without another word.
I always hated smokers.
And he just gave me another reason to hate him.
