"Imagine your sex appeal when I'm burying your remains in a ziplock bag because your tender body splattered onto the asphalt like an overripe plum." She stands up and brushes the grass off the back of her skirt. "I understand your little baby heart is bleeding, but the situation is not dire enough for you to start doing stupid shit like that. Just get your dick wet like a normal person." Harry grimaces, the imagery effectively obliterating any appeal the idea might have had.