A Matter of Propriety and Parasites...
“How dare you.” Her hand flew up and the sting creased her palm as she struck cheek.
His jaw glided with the delivery. Too controlled. No flinch. He’d seen the slap coming and he’d allowed it. She saw it in his eyes when he met her glare with mild tolerance.
“I dare,” he said, “because someone had to awaken you.”
An unfortunate choice of language or did he mean that in terms of passion? Her sight blurred red and her voice pitched unsteadily. “You’re a despicable, arrogant, intolerable, despicable—”
“You already said despicable,” he muttered.
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “I’ve never hated any human being in my life, never, not until this moment.”
Cynical amusement settled in the line of his mouth. The warmer depths fled his gaze. “You, me, the entire country stands on the cusp of an apocalypse and the edge is crumbling while you’re fretting about sentiments, confusing your loyalties and dithering over inconsequentialities. You said it yourself. I've just saved us precious time by breaking down the walls you were too afraid to.”