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Summary
“You smell like a whore,” Sniper hissed, the smell assaulting his airway, feeling like he was suffocating on it. It seeped into his lungs like it seeped into his brain, the smell pissed him off. He could tell it wasn’t the cheap shit, probably belonging to some classy girl. A girl who didn’t live in a van and smoke cheap cigarettes and drink cheap beer. Probably way younger than Sniper, way too young and dumb to realize she shouldn’t be messing around with a man like Spy.
“You smell like a cheap bar,” Spy retorted.