Seventy Five.

But… was that actual crying?

No. Her voice still carried that breathless, desperate edge.

She was frustrated. And not in the way she wanted to be.

I leaned back, smug. "Well, you told me to stop. So I stopped."

"That's not… that's not…!" she stammered. "You… you can't just… just—!"

"Just what?" I asked, my voice dripping with mock innocence. "I'm just respecting your wishes."

She fell silent, breath still shaky.

I could practically feel the internal battle raging inside her. Pride vs deep desires.

Then, her voice, quiet and resentful. "You… you're cruel."

"You wound me." I smirked.

"Heartless." 

"Terrible accusations." I shook my head at such childish curse words.

Her breath trembled. "You… you tease! You know exactly what you're doing."

I stretched. "Do I?"

Silence.

Then, in a whisper—"Just… just leave me alone."

She sounded exhausted. Defeated.

I grinned. "As you wish."