"I can't keep doing this," she sighed defeatedly. "The neighbors are still complaining from last time, and frankly, I don't have the stomach for it anymore."
"Then stop calling me at four in the morning. You know what a 4am call means, don't you?"
"Sure, but it's not like I actually want you. If I had the choice, I'd gut you before you had the chance to touch me." She slipped off the bed and pulled her jeans to her waist. "It's your stupid fucking smile. Even when I'm feeling reckless enough to let my chef's knife join me at the front door, you know how to be perfectly disarming."
"If I was reading this in some trashy romance novel, I'd laugh at how pathetically sexist the author is." He lit a cigarette as the dry autumn breeze seeped in through the cracked window. "You're not back into that dreck, are you?"
"Don't kid yourself; I'm mostly pretending to like you. Besides, even though you are a shit, you do occasionally make me happy."
"We all have our vices. You don't have to sugar coat it -- least of all for me."
"Well that's a relief. Maybe now you should get the fuck out of my apartment?"