CIARA
These men have got to be kidding me.
First, they got shit drunk. And now, Noah had broken what I just recognised as my favourite china — the one I used everytime I wanted to bake at home, the one I had treasured for years.
Damnit.
I wanted to punch him in the face, but I would be hurting myself in extension, so I didn't.
I settled for glaring at him instead, anger simmering in my veins. My pulse pounded in my ears and the anger rose swiftly, boiling under my skin as my eyes flitted from the broken china back to him.
How could he be so careless?
I didn't care if he was drunk or not. He should not have even attempted to take the candy bowl at all.
And who even takes candy with alcohol?
Them, apparently.