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Mr. Danya
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Sandy felt his hand grip around the neck of the bottle. Once again, someone couldn’t take a hint.

“Nothing happened.” He hissed at Jasmine, continuing to give her his uninviting stare. What did she even mean by something happening? Someone trying to stick a knife in him? Someone wanting to take all his stuff away and laugh at his loss? Something absolutely awful that no doubt must be falling upon him for the crime of being abducted by terrorists?

Well, he supposed, some things had happened.

He found his stare breaking, as he shifted his gaze away from Jasmine in an awkward grumble. Yeah, meeting people had been one painful, embarrassing experience after another; that’s why he was trying to cut them out permanently and just get people to leave him alone already. How hard was it to just hear no at face value and be on your damned merry way?

“It’s none of your business, now leave me alone.”

He continued to avoid eye contact, but his grip didn’t relax either.
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