"When I turn twenty-one I can buy it for myself." She pouted, tapping a fingertip on his nose when he grinned at her. "I'll be 18, that's old enough to vote, make my own decisions, it's old enough to drink too if the fucking christian fundamentalists weren't so damned pushy." She grumbled and huffed a sigh. "Canada is really, really far away though, Piotr, and I'm not allowed out of the country while my immigration is being settled, you know that."
She blinked at him when he sniffed and slid back down away from him, unlinking her hands from around his shoulders.There were more pressing matters at the moment than birthday liquor in late october. Like the smell of burning. She jumped back away from him and then scampered around behind him to take a look. "Oh shit." she muttered, eyes wide as she looked down into the bottom of the oven at the burned, fiery glop that was their pizza. Oh that sucked!
"You didn't say anything about a pan..." she muttered and then put her hands on her slender hips, looking up at him chastisingly. He also didn't say he knew what the oven should be set on either. He was playing dumb just to see her fail and that made her frown at him. "I guess so.. but you're totally buying."