he gives her a couple seconds of glaring, eyebrow-raising disbelief before returning his eyes to the marked-up chapter in front of him. he circles one last sentence with his red pen, then pushes it back across the table to rory. ❝ it’s well-written, like all your stuff. you’ve got some of the cleanest prose i’ve ever seen, and your grammar and vocab are always perfect. but you’re pullin’ your punches with this one. ❞ he leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.
' hey dodger, i am fully capable of punching, okay? i can throw a punch. ‘ she pauses for a moment while she refuses to let him win even if he is right. ‘ i might not be good at sports or dancing but writing? ---- that i can do. ‘ she enjoys bantering with him almost as much as rory enjoys his company. her face lights up. ‘ i think you’re just upset because i stole cornstarch in this chapter. ‘