I go out, for once.
You appear before me and reach instantly for my beloved treasure chest, but I am uncomfortable. No means no tonight, as does it every other night.
You do not step back.
Only the chairs' arms are willing to support me, so my own small hand reaches for your twelve o'clock and now it is you who must flee.
The candles' tongues lick you on your way out.
Explicit.
Are you happy now? Where's your horse and carriage babe?
By the way, you dropped your fucking shoe.
Goodnight.