Better that he not contest her preferred outlook on things. Although he would be hard-pressed to play along, Spanner was at the very least knowledgeable when it came to Bluebell’s volatile fury – if nothing else. Pushy girls can be such a mystery.
Producing a folded rag, he proceeds to wipe down the counter. “You didn’t have to make it personal… You swung by plenty of times before. It was only a matter of time until you came back again, right?”
{❀} » — How was it that someone so clearly intelligent could be so beyond dense when it came down to it? Somehow she had come to suspect that even if she were to spell it out on her forehead using indelible ink, the ever oblivious mechanic would still overlook it.
“Well one of us had to,” is her rapid fire retort, though it’s more of a forthright observation than directly intended for Spanner. “And I could just as easily have never come back at all! This is the mafia world, nyu. Not that you’ve ever looked up from your work bench long enough to notice...”
Why did boys have to be so sᴛᴜᴘɪᴅ?
