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After Shauna blows her sixty-fourth load, she finally loses all will to do the nasty and collapses next to you, you're still wearing a stoic, dead-on-the-inside face.
"That was SO good, Crush-It Calem! Don't you think?"
You let out a yawn, "I dunno, I feel like I'm supposed to be having fun, I'm in a rich bedroom in a pompous palace, I've been giving dick-rides out for the past few hours to a legitimately qt brownie, and I have a fucking haunted sword."
. . .
You click your tongue, "But y'know,
I'm not." 