❛ you should've fought back! why didn't you kick his ass? ❜
He was right; Giselle should have taken action. Perhaps this demigod was the only person who sided with her, having witnessed the whole scene, where the obnoxious individual slapped her on the ass, and asked in a disgusting sneer whether she wanted to be his bitch for the night. As usual, people heartlessly walked by as though afraid of getting in other people’s businesses, or more like getting caught up in other people’s misfortunes.
So to some extent, she was grateful someone stepped forward to shake her to her senses, when all she did was freeze mid-strut on the bustling streets. It took her a while to pull herself out of her trance, but not from shock and horror from the events earlier. She was pondering over what she had just saw through that brief touch, skin-to-skin. The harasser’s fingers, to his absolute dismay, brushed against the back of her thigh, exposed from the short length of her skirt.
“Thanks for asking,” she gasped, in slight glee, even. The demigod may be confused, but from that touch, Giselle had all she needed for revenge. “He’ll regret laying his dirty hands on me soon enough.” Petty drug dealers were never her concern, nor would she go out of her way to cause trouble for them with the police. But when one sexually harasses her like that then unknowingly tells her all about his drug den through touch, she’d grab onto that chance like she hung on for dear life.
That was when Giselle’s features lit up, a grin blooming across her smug face. “Wanna go to the police station with me? It’s just up front.”
