“I’m still angry at you,” Lana commented as they walked down the pathway, decorated with candles on both sides, to the table and chairs set up on the sand right near where the waves crashed against the sand. The sun was setting, illuminating the sky in an angry red and orange. The wind was blowing Lana’s short sundress up around her thighs. Her hair was open, like Tony liked it and she was continuously looping it back behind her ears.
“I’m angry at you,” Tony retorted, reaching out his hand to lace his fingers through Lana’s. “But it’s your birthday, so I’m willing to put a pin on the conversation we need to have.”
“I just don’t understand why you won’t let me go through with my plan? I’m a pretty good fighter. I could hold my own,” Lana argued as Tony’s lips set into a thin line while
