hybriistophiliac:

Finding a shirt that wasn’t too crinkled, she pulled it
over her head and turned back around, arms folding
over her chest.

             ❝ Says you. Luckily, you’re not my target audience. ❞

Morgan sticks her tongue out.

             ❝ There’s the newest issue of Cemetery Dance  over
                      there on  the  headboard.  Alternatively,  I  got  two
                      letters yesterday if you’re in the  mood  for  hilarity
                      or intrigue; one from  mommy  dearest,  one  from
                      some convict out in Arkansa who slaughtered  his
                      family, allegedly. Pick your poison. ❞

     Jeff inspected the newly-donned shirt from where
he lay and silently deemed it acceptable. He waved a
dismissive hand at her offensive tongue and turned
when she mentioned her magazines and letters.

     "And this is why I hang out with you,“ he said
with another smile. The compliment was genuine,
too. "Let’s see the letters.” Impatient as ever, he was
already holding out his hands for the papers in question.