"It's a nightmare regardless," she replied, turning away, but leaving the door open. Let him come in if he wants, Sally shrugged. She made her way over to the counter, ready to pour her third glass.
As the crimson liquid splashed into one of the only glasses she owned, her shoulders slumped in a way that was not common for proud little Sally-Anne. "Clothes," she replied to his cheeky question.
Taking another sip, she returned to her wall, sliding back down to a seat position. "It's late. Shouldn't you be doing....I don't...Merlin only knows what in your own bed."