Jon's face instantly drops to terror, a sharp breath taken through his nose, and a hand snaps up to catch her arm. He doesn't dare try to pull her away, though - not with the way those nails dig. A sickly vision of his face being pulled away like clay from a block rises to his mind, and try as he might, he can't shake it.
"L--- let go of me," he tries to manage, though it's barely coherent, with how his jaw his held open. His other hand fumbles the counter, searching. For what? A tool to push her away, something to call someone over? He isn't even sure, but he needs something.
"You are never going to see that grinder," Jon shoots back, fear turning to boiling anger the instant that he's free, even in spite of the half-step that he takes back. "And you'd do well to get the fuck out of my shop."
Same shit, different Avatars. He's going to need a hand making sure that thing never sees enough light of day to get found.
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"L--- let go of me," he tries to manage, though it's barely coherent, with how his jaw his held open. His other hand fumbles the counter, searching. For what? A tool to push her away, something to call someone over? He isn't even sure, but he needs something.
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"N--- no."
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"Oh, honey, you're going to regret that. Because I will get it. I'm just going to make sure that it's a really terrible experience for you."
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Same shit, different Avatars. He's going to need a hand making sure that thing never sees enough light of day to get found.