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Monotone
You're not wearing that Lyra." Marcellus spoke agitatedly raking his hand through his perfectly sleeked back hair, ruining it in the process.
"I think I have the right to wear what I want. Besides, what's your problem with this dress?!" Lyra fired back for the umpteenth time.
This was her body they were talking about here and she could as much as choose whatever she wished to wear. She'd wondered why he'd been so adamant on choosing her outfit for the night? What was his problem with her dress anyways? All she could see was him trying to make a mountain out of an anthill.
"It's not enough for me." He replied as candid as possible.
"Are you trying to insult my sense of fashion? If you have a problem with my dress then deal with it. That's your problem not mine." She snapped, her chest rising and falling, her arms akimbo.
"Pardon me if I sound prude but I have no problem with your dress. No. On the contrary, i want
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