Blame it on the innocent // Christy & Luke
Luke had to admit he was a little impressed by Christy’s handling of the cashier, watching her quietly for a few moments. She was a skinny chick, short but with nice, round tits that he was pretty sure would feel damn good underneath his hands if he could get her top off, and he was sure she’d be hella kinky in bed. He didn’t actually want to sleep with her, though; he didn’t exactly get a one-night stand vibe from her, and there was no way he was going to attempt to try a relationship with this chick. She was snobby and rude and the fact that her only endearing quality was the way her shirt clung to her breasts was kind of shitty.
He might have been an asshole himself, but trying anything out with someone who was also an asshole was like tossing a starving tiger and an equally hungry lion in a cage and watching them fight to the death over a slab of meat. Luke wanted someone he could bang without worrying about, and Christy was not that chick.
The cashier came back with a couple cups of coffee and Luke set the twenty down on the counter, the girl handing his change rather shakily. Luke picked up the tray of coffee and shoved it at Christy, an eyebrow arched incredulously. “All right, there’s your fucking coffee. You spill it on some other guy, don’t fucking come crying to me, got it? Fucking clumsy-ass bitch.”
Looking decidedly unimpressed with the whole situation, Christy watched the cashier come back darkly, watching the relieved sort of way she put the tray on the counter and accepted the money. It annoyed her somewhat that the girl lacked any kind of spine at all. Had Christy been the one standing behind the counter, she would have poured coffee all over the rude assholes demanding way too little money for way too many cups of coffee. Turning to the guy, she barely had time to catch the tray before scowling darkly at him. The way he spoke made her want to pour a cup over him, but common sense told her that wasn’t the best of ideas. Not to say her hand didn’t twitch while holding the tray, but still. It was a bad idea to go with that instinct. Telling him I hope you fucking get hit by a car, wasn’t maybe the best way to go about it either.
"Pleasure doing business with you," she said coolly, giving him a two-fingered, rather lazy salute, before leading the way out of the cafe. Well, she was still wearing his shirt, and if he wanted it back, he’d have to wait, or follow her home. That’s if her own shirt hadn’t dried up enough yet, but she’d left that in the bank.
Going ahead to open the door for him again, Christy scowled nastily at some older lady who thought she’d be welcome to weasel her way into the bank.
Christy figured she could at least escort Luke back into the bank’s inner offices. Well inside, when no longer caring whether or not Luke was at her heels, she slammed the tray of coffee down on her colleague’s desk.
"Never a-fucking-gain am I going to run around like a fucking page," by this point Christy was hoarsely screaming at her colleague, "because our actual fucking page is off having sex with her nasty fucking boyfriend. You got that?”
Looking shocked, though not surprised, the colleague grabbed their cup of coffee, stammering something inaudible.
"Shut your fucking mouth," Christy snapped, only narrowly resisting the urge to knock the coffee out of his hands. She was lucky if their boss wasn’t standing in some far off corner watching her, because though her colleagues were mildly afraid of her, her boss could fire her in the blink of an eye due to her tantrums. Pointing one finger at her colleague, she barely managed to keep her voice low and dark. "I’m going to go home for an hour or so, so as to change. I don’t want to fucking hear a single word from you from now on when that stupid whore doesn’t show up for work. Get your own fucking coffee.”
Turning around, she bumped into another person, though didn’t pay nearly enough attention to whomever that was before starting to curse loudly.