Lillian Perkins is having a horrible day from start to finish and a clueless Dakota Thornton waltzing into her workplace in need of a book for his sister doesn't exactly bring her stress level down. Not to mention getting stuck in an elevator with h...
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After about twenty minutes, I am indubitably coming down with a vengeful case of cabin fever. Symptoms consisting of: irritability, perspiration, hyperventilating, pacing, and being on the verge of tears. Though I can probably blame the sweating on the fact that there's no air conditioning and Dakota's body heat alone seems to be making it much worse.
Any time he sits less than three feet away, I start sweating. No wonder he survived being snowed in on all sides with no heat; he is a heater himself.
"Your skin is literally giving off heat. Go away." I grumble when he tries to sit next to me again, my face feeling red and puffy from the high temperature, my hair pulled up in a bun on my head, fly aways sticking up in every direction, giving into the humidity.
Dakota scoots away wordlessly before releasing a long sigh. "I can't help that I'm hot, Lillian. It's a curse I must bear."
I feel my eyes roll, pushing my glasses up my sweaty nose. "Not that kind of heat, you idiot. You're so narcissistic."
"I'm confident." He shimmies down the wall until he's lying flat on his back, his eyes looking up at the hole in the ceiling. "There's a difference."
"Whatever." I mumble, picking at the end of my yellow T-shirt. "I hope Amelia decides to come back and check on me or something. But maybe even then she would just figure I already left. The store should be closed by now though so there's no way she wouldn't think anything of me not locking up and cashing out the drawer." I think aloud.
"Who's Amelia?" Dakota asks from his spot on the floor as he absentmindedly pats at his stomach.
I watch him for a moment with furrowed brows before reminding him, "My manager."
"Oh yeah." He says, laying his arms limp at his sides as he breathes deeply. "It's so hot." He groans loudly, rolling onto his stomach. I spot a line of sweat on his light pink shirt and my nose scrunches.
"You're all sweaty." I state bluntly, earning a scoff from him, his head popping up to give me a disapproving glare.
"Quit staring at me."
"I'm not staring I'm just observing something that's clearly obvious." I defend, gesturing to him. "You're laying like four feet from me, of course I can see your back. Don't be such a baby."
He sits up with a roll of his green eyes. "You're rude."
"I'm not rude." I spit back at him, pulling my legs to my chest. "It's not my fault you're so sensitive."
"I'm not!" Dakota throws his arms up defensively and I give him a flat expression.
"Yes you are. I just said your back is sweaty and you're acting like I insulted your mother." My tone comes out more condescending than I intended it to.
Dakota raises a brow at me. "Of all examples you chose that one?"
"Whatever." I sigh, looking away from him and at the wall next to me.
