standalone

He could tell by the way she acted that he wasn’t welcome, but since he’d already gotten comfortable he decided that leaving now wasn’t an option. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes he hummed to himself lowly, taking a deep breath before he spoke up once again. “You’re not really a people person, are you?”

"It’s a bit of a known fact.” Three years she had been here. In all of that time she kept the knowledge of herself to a minimum -- both born of the desire to just keep to herself and that to keep her family out of her business. Amalia wasn’t easy to get along with, apathy set her in another world most of the time, or the judgement that held her gaze. By now she was tired of whiny Dolls, more of whiny Handlers. “Only when I’m paid to be.”

Kendrick’s eyes shot up to find the source of the voice that had called out to him as he settled into a chair across the room, lifting a brow at the choice of words. “Uh, you don’t have to bounce on my account.. I’m just trying to sit somewhere quiet. I can find another place to sit if this one is taken.” He responded lightly, tongue sliding over his slowly healing lip as he tried not to chew on it.

Was there a nice way to say that she preferred the entire room to be empty, save for herself? His company wasn’t exactly welcome, but instead of sharing her thoughts on the matter Amalia merely shrugged. “Have it your way.” A quick readjustment of her legs had the small brunette sitting almost compact, attention shifting back down to the book she had grabbed from the library as opposed to her new found company.

This one was definitely one of the haughty types. While his cynicism prevented Dom from truly liking just about anyone, this girl irritated him more than most. Maybe it was the way she kept that haughty smile on her face or the condescending way she used her haughty voice to talk down to him, but he wanted nothing to do with her. Just as he started to believe that the mess with that broad was over, she actually had the nerve to push him back into the couch, causing Dominic to wince, hiss, and groan at the stinging pain that surged through his back. “Fuckin’ cunt,” he growled as he shot up and sent his fist right into her stomach. “I don’t hit like a bitch. I could have you on your ass in no time at all.” Did this girl have a death wish or something?

She expected him to hit her again -- she wanted it, really. It was a seal that he would be dragged back to punishment whenever one of the Handlers befell their scuffle. There was a chance she would be punished too but Amalia was willing to bury herself to see him go down. It was something in his voice that rang how easy it was to get under his skin. So when he buried his fist into her stomach she gave a hiss, collapsed near immediately for the force of his blow before the wheeze turned into laughter from her place on the floor. “You do, you really do -- you hit like a bitch. It takes a bitch to hit like a bitch, doesn’t it?” A hand rubbed where he struck, Amalia shifted to sit up and gave that toothy grin of hers, “Are you going to beat me bloody? No ... are you going to try?”