[Olive. How the hell did she know to call her that? It took a moment for Freya to connect the dots between the preexisting anger and the reflexive shock, but soon enough, she was scrabbling at her back while her coworker did his damnedest not to laugh. He wasn't doing well.]
No, it bloody well isn't! Freya. It's Freya. [And when she finally manages to tear the paper off her back, eyes narrowing down at the message.] Oh, it's cute, alright. It's gonna be just as cute when he's a dead man.
[The comment seems directed at the paper, but her coworker stops snickering.]
no subject
No, it bloody well isn't! Freya. It's Freya. [And when she finally manages to tear the paper off her back, eyes narrowing down at the message.] Oh, it's cute, alright. It's gonna be just as cute when he's a dead man.
[The comment seems directed at the paper, but her coworker stops snickering.]