"Please enough!" Fedora started, now sitting upright. The cabin felt suddenly tighter, the air thick with the residue of his frustration.
Miguel made to speak, to appease him further, but Fedora wasn't done talking.
"I'm tired of this whole bullshit!....not you trying to gaslight me into believing it's my fault, like I choose to give you attitude out of the blue!" Fedora scoffed, his gaze briefly brushing up the upholstery of the cabin's roof before they landed back on Miguel, his eyes subtly wide and staring at the man with cold, sharp disbelief.
He waited a bit and when no response came, he continued, "What was that shit with Tyra back at the club?" Fedora interrogated with full force, his face scrunching with distaste, leaving no space for Miguel to come up with a soothing excuse,
So all the man could do at that cornered minute was to fall back to the defensive wall of feigning oblivion and innocence.
