Buttons, pushed.

GRR!! He's done it AGAIN. See for yourself:

Am I late? (I know am I am, but I’m not sure HOW late.)
Yup. (Read: NOT amused.)
Thirty minutes. (It’s verrry late for him and he has to work in the morning.)
Damn, sorry. (I really am.)
What did you do? (He said he would tell me what he had to do for his hour when I returned. He likes his secrets.)
You'll never know now. (Button, push.)
What kept you?
You said you'd say... (He literally said, ‘I don’t make promises, but a man’s word counts for more than promises.’)
Your word is shit.
I would have said…
…but too tired now. (Button, puuuuush.)
Nope.
You said you would. (Clearly, I am agitated.)

Sir grins. (He finds some sort of sadistic pleasure in this. I can’t blame him, but I do.)

Word.
Shit.
Forever. (Read: Mini tantrum.)
Won't trust you ever again. (Read: Better fix this.)
Oh well. (Read: No. You won’t tell me what to do.)
Don't you 'oh well' me. (I know, ballsy right?)
Shouldn't be always late, should you? (Oh, a lesson! Is THAT what this is? Grr.)
I shouldn't, but it wasn't my fault. (Hmm, sounds like an apology to me, but then I DID apologize. See above.)
Oh no. (Sarcasm, and plenty of it.)
Come on then.
Excuse. (Button, little push.)
I told you.
Right.
And you couldn't do than in an hour because? (Read: Not good enough. Excuse NOT accepted.
Also eating and renting movies.
And going to the bank...
My excuses are good. (Read: Please drop it.)
Um hm.

Sir leaves. (Button, push, push, PUSH, PUSH, PUSH!!!)

He leaves, without a word. Does not even tell me he is leaving, that this is his punishment. He just...goes. I have told him time and again how jarring this is for me. Yet, he seems to think that this will do what? Demonstrate power? Keep me on my toes? It is that moment your foot looks for the step that is not there. Fuck. I hate it!!