Jake. And he's in a foul mood.

"It's about time", he growls, as you open the door for him. To be fair, he's carrying what looks like the small palm tree you demanded for the living room corner, and it looks damn heavy, but is it any sort of reason to be snappy like that? He's not the one in a tiny towel, her hair a damp mess, her skin prickling from the cold. He's very much dressed, very much warm, and definitely not damp.

Your annoyance with him grows every second. You check your anger, and you slowly articulate words.

"You forgot the window open in the bathroom, Jake". Jake. Not "babe", not "honey", and definitely not "stud". Right now, any sort of sexual sentiment has evaporated, and only remains anger, cold and steely.

"Yeah, well, close it?" he snaps. True, he's still panting as he tries to position the stupid palm tree besides the table. He's definitely holding it wrong, he should... he drops the thing on his foot.

"OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE. CAN'T YOU FUCKING SHUT IT?" he lashes out. You truly, truly hope he's talking about the window, because he's most definitely playing with his life if he's not. You've had it, though.

"How is it my fault if you're dumb?", you ask in an even voice. It's unfair, and you know it, but there is only so much a girl can take before she transitions from Lady to Harpy. You're totally going to rip his eyes out with your talons if he even looks like yelling at you again.