Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-34263048-20190323205549/@comment-36855838-20190324045951

Still laying almost comiacally splayed on the floor, I blink rapidly, trying to adjust to my sudden and violent shift in position.

Her anger radiates into the air in a heat so intense I can feel my lips drying.

I stand, hoping to sit in my chair further away, but I rise too quickly, and I tumble, dizzy, to the floor.

I try again, this time walking to the water cooler.

Three cups later, I finally manage a gargled-

"Yawansometoo?"

She blinks, so dazed I'd think I'd unconsciously slapped her if I wasn't across the room.

"I'm too angry to drink, it's just- UGH!"

Her eyes jet vast gouts of flame, singing the flowers on my desk and lighting the curtains ablaze.

The room is concrete, and all my papers are inside my steel desk, so I just let the curtains burn.

She sits, seething with unbridled rage, her fists clenching so hard I can hear the creaking of her bones.

At last, she slouches back into the chair, her flames sputtering out.

I walk over with a spare cup of water, and hold it to her lips.

She greedily gulps it down, her lips dry and cracked, her eyes tearless, her skin slightly sunken in places.

Dehydration is swiftly dealt a lethal blow over the course of the evening, and as the sun slowly sets, a gentle, warm glow takes up within her eyes.

She finally takes the cup in hand, and I hold her other.

"I may be off duty, but I can still listen, so please, tell me what happened."

And so she did, and that, Danny, is how I met your Aunt.