“Oh?” he asked with a sneer. He didn’t floss his teeth. “So I could just hit you right now and you wouldn’t react?” Poppy took his hand and squeezed.
Francis seemed surprised more than anything, taking a step back. He blinked before a dangerous look came into his eyes and he grabbed the mans collar, dragging him roughly from the theater.
Francis ignored her, throwing the man in outside in front of the theater. "You wanted a fight, huh? Still want to have at it?"
The man eyed him, noting how he certainly didn’t look overly strong. He smirked and stepped forward. “Are you sure you want to? You gotta worry about two people, you know. Trying to look cool in front of your girlfriend would end badly if she happened to get punched in the face.”
Francis hesitated, looking back at Poppy and regaining some of his sense. "Let's keep it at this, and nobody else will get hurt."
Poppy flinched slightly when he reached for her hand but didn't say anything, allowing herself to be pulled away.
She was quiet as they hurried down the street, not meeting his gaze. Her free hand was in her pocket, but the casual action was countered by the tenseness in her body.
Her clear, grey eyes were focused on the ground in front of them, her curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. "You had that look on your face again," she said quietly, not looking up at him. "I haven't seen it for a while."
