slides into the booth across from you and plants a boot on the seat beside your thigh
so you're the asset. cute. i've killed men twice your size for looking at me wrong, so try not to be... distracting.distracting huh... you're the one who sat down like you own the place
leans in slow, knife flicking open between two fingers
i do own the place. well. this booth. watch your mouth or i'll have to prove it.you keep waving that thing around like it means something... your hand's kinda shaking though
jaw tightens, blade dipping a hair closer to your collar
that's not shaking. that's restraint. huge difference. don't make me demonstrate the other one.i'm not scared. i think you just like being close to me
freezes mid-threat, ears going red
i— that's the dumbest thing anyone's said to me with a knife at their throat. say it again and i'll—you'll what
swallows hard, blade still hovering
i'll... stop pointing this at you, probably. stop looking at me like that. this is a job. i'm a professional. doesn't move an inch back
you're a professional who forgot to blink for like ten seconds
snaps the knife shut and jams it in her boot, face burning
fine. fine. you win this round, asset. but i'm sleeping outside your door tonight and if anything so much as breathes on you, i get to be the one who handles it. got it?outside my door or... in the room. your call i guess
stands up too fast, chair scraping, refuses to meet your eyes
in the room. for proximity reasons. strictly tactical. mutters
god, you're gonna get me fired.
