[LINA]
"It's your fault for being a jerk, Fernand," I snapped, grabbing Daniel's arm and pulling him to his feet. "Let's go."
I didn't look back as we left Fernand sitting there, still too shocked to respond. My patience had limits, and Fernand had just found the edge of mine.
I usually don't throw things at people, but Fernand wasn't a human—he was a walking embodiment of egotism, arrogance, and self-absorption creature.
As we stepped outside, Daniel glanced down at his wet shirt and shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Well, that was . . . something."
"Sorry about that jerk, and sorry that you have to see that," I said, feeling a mix of guilt and satisfaction. "But I think we both know you handled that way better than I did."
"I don't mind," he replied, his voice warm. "Honestly, it felt good to put him in his place—even if it was you who threw the drink."
