I spilt my hot chocolate over him. And okay its was my fault but he went crazy and got in my face started goin crazy shouting rite In my face omg it s...ared me and as he shouted he was spitting all over my face... He was hard to understand what he was saying in his broken up Welsh accent he looked like he lived everyday without changing his clothes and ever washing his face as he stunk of b. O and omg he was ever so aggressive he noticed I had spilt my drink down his beige trousers before I. I wanted to run, hide, flee. But only for a moment. The footsteps were still approaching and I was looking straight ahead. Anything, yes, I’d do anything. And it was just a game, wasn’t it? A soft shadow fell over the couch and the steps halted. Slowly, hesitantly, I looked up, and my skin exploded in crimson embarrassment. It was a woman, a little younger than her, blonde, a bombshell, with a beautiful, even tan. She was wearing a white cotton dress that exposed a lot of cleavage, but even as. More

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