"Fucking bitch," Max groaned exactly twelve hours later.
"Oh goody! you can move," I exclaimed, taking my feet off his kitchen table and putting down the bag of popcorn I found in his cupboard.
"You could have at least moved me off the hard floor," he complained slowly getting to his feet.
"You should have said something! How was I meant to know you were uncomfortable?" I said and he scowled at me whilst rubbing his shoulder. "Plus...you could of at least not left me in a cold cellar for twenty-four hours with my arch enemy who almost killed me... although I seem to remember you doing it anyway didn't you?"
He shot me a glare before stretching his arms and cracking his neck.
"But I'm not here simply for the fun of stirring up our three-year-old hatred for one another,' I said. "I came here because-" I began.