So someone had messed up as suddenly she could feel the pen
tapping against her leg and the aching in her feet from wearing
heels all day. The problem was that she wasn’t even near a writing
utensil and she was wearing converse. Though she’d bet anyone
that the certain blond sitting halfway across the room could feel
her cracked lips and the pins and needles in her left leg. Someone
had messed up and now she felt everything that happened to the
one and only, Felicty Smoak.
Apparently the way to get the elder’s attention was not by calling her
name insistently while she was in the research mood but by purposefully
banging her knee against the table, a hiss coming from both of their lips.
Pausing to let the ache settle, Neva looked up at an especially annoyed
looking woman. “Hey! What was I supposed to do? You weren’t listening!”