English Accent (The Accents #1)

Sabbra Cadabra

The guy, whose name I've learned was Dominic, looked down at me.

"A good gun carriage?" one corner of his lips crept higher.

"Uh... Yeah. Some... good gun carriage." man, I sounded lame. "Or just any gun carriage at all. I don't care."

His lips twitched.

"Tell me, is it your first time having an accident?" he asked conversationally.

Well, I have just gotten my driving license, so I didn't have much time to have one.

I nodded. Dominic continued looking at me, but he didn't say anything. Irritation rose in me. Now he was going to ignore me?

"Do you know or do you not?" I asked.

He smiled slightly.

"It's been already taken care of, Sweetie."

Sweetie? What the hell?

I frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Your friend made a call during the ride to the airport."

God bless Sierra. At least one of us wasn't a shitty best friend.

"And it still hasn't arrived? " my voice was filled with skepticism.

He shrugged.

"They tend to do that."

I nodded, tensing. How much time was I going to have to spend here before I could go home?

And how would I go to said home, if I didn't have a car?

"Don't sweat it so much, Sweetie." the guy's voice distracted me from my thoughts. "It's just an accident."

"Could you stop calling me that?" I snapped.

His brows pulled together.

"What?"

"Sweetie."

He laughed.

"Well, I don't have many options left, since you haven't told me your name."

Was he for real right now?

"You know my name." I told him. "It's been written in the documents."

"I haven't peeked." he shrugged. "So?"

I looked at him.

"So what?"

"Soo, are you going to tell me your name?"

I sighed.

"Abi." I murmured.

He grinned.

"Nice to meet you, Abi. I guess so."

He glanced at his car. I rolled my eyes.

"It's going to be fine. The insurance will cover the costs of repair, and if not..." I paused. "If not, then I'm going to pay for it."

The second part was spoken much quieter. I had no idea where I would find the money to pay for that.

"By the way, I've been dying to know." he changed the topic suddenly.

Oh, Lord....

"What is that strange accent you have going on?"

Strange? Well, now that was just mean.

"I'm British." I replied curtly, refusing to look at him. "I think that's what you meant."

"British." he repeated, as if to himself.  "Scottish?"