Terrence was correct in regards to Ella's reaction to the brewing weather outside. She could brave extreme heights, near death situations, blood and death but lightning? No thanks. She preferred to stay indoors where should could pace in peace. That was exactly what she was doing right now; pacing and wringing her hands nervously. She contemplated cooking to occupy her mind, but she was bollocks at cooking and didn't feel like putting out a fire today. Unless Terrence set fire to something, in which case she wouldn't terribly mind.
Either way, she was more than irritable when Terrence showed up in her studio flat drenching wet. Nevermind that she thought he was so incredibly sexy with droplets of water dripping from his lashes and sliding down his leather jacket. She was not to be distracted right now! She stalked up to him, scowling, and pushed him menacingly with her hands. Well, really, she didn't put much effort into it at all as there wasn't even enough force behind it to make him move. The gesture was all the same, though. She was arsed off at the weather and who better to take it out on than him? "Какво по дяволите правиш? излезе от апартамента си с влажни дрехи! започва да се руши ми мебели, задник," she rattled off in her native tongue, not caring if he actually caught the point.
She stared him down--or maybe it was up from her viewpoint--for a few passing moments and then, distraction winning over in the end, she gripped either side of his wet jacket and pulled him down to kiss her. And then she pulled away and stalked off toward her sofa, calling over her shoulder, "Take your clothes off if you're staying. You ruin my fort and you die."