"I know," he said slowly, his brows furrowing. "But you need someone to balance you out. Please don't beat me up about this."
He sighed, tilting his head. "Yeah, about that... this is the part that you really need to not punch me."
Petra came around, looking displeased as she crossed her arms. "Trust me," she said lowly, glaring at Liefson. "It wasn't my idea either." "It has to be done."
He ignored anything she had to say. "No. No it doesn't. She's probably going to kill me on this mission. She is the worst possible choice you could have made."
"Oh, right," Petra said, rolling her eyes. "You've tried to kill me three times. I've tried once, after an actual attack. You're being ridiculous."
He turned to face her, his eyes blazing. "It's my fault you got upset because of some family issues. I wasn't even trying to kill you."
"Seriously. What the hell is your problem? You break into my car, break into my house, and follow me into an abandoned library, each time with the intention to kill me, and when I try to return the favor, you throw a tantrum? You're a *squee!*ing child."
He said nothing, his expression thoughtful as he held his tongue. If she looked carefully, she would notice a cut in his jacket from where she had attacked.
She glared at him fiercely, her brows furrowed. She noticed the cut, of course, but didn't reference it. "And besides," she said, her voice quiet and dangerous. "You were planning to kill me after we hooked up anyway. That whole 'being fond' of me wasn't real and you know it. Stop trying to make yourself into the victim. I'm going to go home and get ready. Let me know when it's time to move out." She left the room, slamming the door behind her.
“She’s good,” he said with a sigh. “I think that you guys can get past your differences and work well together.”
