[ The look Alec shoots her is absolutely withering. In a just world, she'd be stricken with remorse on the spot and repent forcing him to do manual labour. In the real world, it's hopeless. ]

You just don't want to dig it out.

[ With that incisive remark, Alec crouches to swipe at the glitter, shoving it back and away. He's not very efficient about it, but little by little, a divot forms in the loose pile. ]

Your feminine wiles are weak, by the way. Two out of five. Also, fuck you for making me say 'feminine wiles'. Ick.