Asking for it (Tangerine and Fenrir13)
Still mad at herself, Ariel stamped her feet throughout the hundred steps or so left till her recent bf’s flat. As if having another one of those heated arguments with her landlord wasn't enough, she’d also managed to have one with her store manager at the coffee shop. Wearing shorts to work? That jealous hag. What a silly thing to ruin her day for. She was mostly behind the counter anyway. So it couldn’t have been that distracting. Well she still wore them, flaunting her legs along the way. Her arms were fully covered though, by the long sleeve shirt she donned. The red and white stripes it had across were in line with the upcoming holiday. They weren't quite the best choice to look taller than 5'1". But they matched her red trainers.
It was easy to blame others for a bad day. Or days in her case. Weeks? Doing the opposite for once perhaps could do better. She’d recently begun to think that she ought to do something about these frequent little outbursts of hers that affected her life poorly. To play nice, one would call. Or being a good girl, in short. That gave her a funny idea. A possible solution, so to speak, to being so stubborn and confrontational and sulky. She needed some help with it. A helping hand her bf surely wouldn’t mind lending.
Finally, the twenty-year-old stopped at the front door, knocking at it. Strong enough to make the tip of her chestnut hair swing. She wore it quite straight, as if she’d just walked out of the salon following a blow-dry and not from work. With her thick brows knitted, she offered a bitter “Hey,” when the door was eventually opened for her to breeze inside.
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