you asked for it
“Alright. Give it.”
You looked up from your corner of the couch, scanning out of the living room toward the hall where the grumble came from. Chris rounded the corner into the room and stared, one eye brow quirked up expectantly and his arms crossed. Your brow knitted in confusion and you folded your book closed, your finger used instead of a bookmark.
“What?” you asked, with a small shake of your head.
“You know what,” he assured you. “Now, give it.”