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"I'm just saying, Ren," the redhead crossed her arms adamantly, wrinkling the white blouse she wore. She shot him a look, daring her dark-haired companion to question her statement.
"You do say a lot of things, Nora," he kept his eyes straight ahead, focused, but aware of his girlfriend's rising temper.
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean, mister?" Nora's pale complexion reddened to hue that could rival her hair. If it was physically possible, steam would be emerging from within her ears.
"I believe you know," Ren stated quietly, sass lingering on the edge of each syllable.
"No, I don't believe I do!" Nora's volume level, if it was even possible, rose about 10 notches to a screech. Two more notches and Ren knew she would square up.
His eyes burned into hers silenty.
"I know you did not just say that all telekinety, Ren!" One notch up.
As her disposition became more and more unraveled, the cooler he became, the only sign of animosity being the iciness in his sharp gaze.
"Oh, I don't know, Nora," he shrugged with faux nonchalance.
Her fists clenched in front of her body like she was holding a war hammer, ready to smite down Ren like an ancient god of war. The scene was rather comedic when you considered Ren had more than 8 inches on Nora; at least to any outside unfamilar to the girl with the brightly colored bob.
The fire that burned in her eyes, turning them shades darker in contempt, was no joke.
"You looking for a fight?" She smirked
"I thought that's what we were doing" Ren
"It's not a fight until someone throws a punch," she cracked her knuckles with malice first, then her neck.
Ren removed a tie from his pocket and pulled back his long black tresses in preparation.
Nora's ears turned more red than her face currently was.
"Do you even remember why you're mad at me?" Ren questioned
"Yes! I'm just saying mozzarella sauce tastes PERFECT with hit pockets!" Nora gestured wildly, passion overflowing.
"No! It doesn't! It has enough sauce already in the hot pocket!" He exclaimed in exasperation, folding his hands over his face. It was like talking to a beautiful brick wall.
Several people had stopped to watch the couple quarrel, shopping abandoned in favor of the reality TV substitute that was more exciting than anything scrawled on crushed post it notes.
Many had whipped phones out in anticipation of either a smackdown in the frozen aisle or the glass case full of buy-in-bulk boxes of hot pockets shattering in result of the short one's pitched screech.
"Maybe to you, but-" Nora stomped her sneakers in indignation, definitely not appearing to be a child-like tantrum.
"Excuse me, I'm going to have to ask you two to leave"