Ah... [Recipe for success, gold star for astonishing progress thus far.]
God, I hate you right now. [She murmurs, head lolled back to stare absently up at the ceiling. He shut her up but then the whole thing kind of did a 180 because she's not exactly staying quiet. Huffs of breath precede barely bit back moans of increasing volume. And she is so close to wanting a grip of his hair.]