God, she wanted to strangle him. Tonight she meant it, too. All she wanted to do was wrap her fingers around his throat and choke the life out of him -- that's how mad he was getting her. Her mood wasn't improved by the usual hair pulling and kiss; by now, she'd push him onto the bed and start up their usual make up, but not tonight.. Damn him. Damn him straight to hell! But since it was nice, she complied easily to his wishes, all the while her own fingers tightened in his hair and yanked -- hard. "Fuck you, Matthew. You know why I'm with you; someone has to be." Low blow to his ego, but hey, she was entitled to a few good ones every night.
The sick feeling started to rise in her throat. Oh, god. With the hand still in his hair, she tried to push him away. "Matthew, if you do not let go of me right now, I will be forced to throw up all over you, including down the front of your shirt." And she wasn't kidding, which was the sad part of the whole thing.
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