I'm not responsible for spoiling, I'm a responsible bullying target

She laid on her belly on the bed. This was. Almost a novel position. For when her clothes were on, at least.

But she needed to not think about that. She was mad at her teasing husband, and if she thought of him without his clothes on - or without hers - she'd be faced with a far more difficult challenge to stay huffy and angry with him.

Instead, she focused on someone far more worthy of her immediate focus.

Her little kitten, Snowball.

He crawled toward her on the bed. He shuffled on his belly. Like he was mimicking some kind of low crawl.

His big blue eyes stared up at her, with those adorably large, round pupils focused right on her.

He chirped at her.

She was entirely weak in the face of that stare.

She'd tried. She really did, for at least a full ten seconds. To not give in to her tiny, precious, beloved kitten's cuteness and his softness.

He pounced on her arm and started gnawing on her sleeve.