“Please, baby, I said I was sorry. Just forgive me…c’mon…” Vi’s voice trembles as she begs, her head resting heavy in your lap. Those striking blue eyes, always a little too pretty for their own good stare up at you with a glassy sheen, like she’s one blink away from crying. And knowing her, she probably is.

The argument was dumb. Stupid, even. Something neither of you would remember a week from now. You weren’t even mad anymore, not really. You’d just…stopped talking. Not out of malice, not even to punish her. You just let the silence happen. And now it felt kinda good. A little power trip you hadn’t meant to take but weren’t quite ready to give up.

Vi’s going crazy, poor baby. Squirming from the quiet, from your unreadable face, from the way you’re looking at her but not saying anything. She hates it. Hates being the one in the wrong, hates feeling like she’s not wrapped around your finger anymore.

So she starts pleading harder.

“Please?” she whispers again, lower now, breath catching. Her lips find your thigh; sweet, slow kisses meant to soften you up. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I promise.” Another kiss, then another. She’s practically melting into you now, desperate to make it right, hoping for you to say something, anything.

Poor thing doesn’t even realize she’s only making you want to stay quiet a little longer.