Imagine your OTP making out to a seductive song, not realizing the ipod is on the shuffle. Right as things are heating up the song ends and a goofy song like What Does the Fox Say comes on and ruins the moment
His lips rubbed over hers and she felt a tingle from her head to her toes. He was so terribly good at this that she couldn't very well concentrate on anything beyond the press of their bodies, the warmth of his skin, the familiar scent of his cologne.
She was vaguely aware of music playing in the background. The 'stolen' gramophone had been a most welcome addition to the bedroom. After taking it from Rose, Robert suggested they tuck it away for their own quiet use until Mary wanted it again.
And yes, it was a grand idea.
The soft notes of some unintelligible song drifted around the room, wafting around them like the cool summer breeze floating through the open window. Her skin was already flushed, overheated from the mid-July day, but Robert's close proximity did little to ease the burn. The feel of his soft cotton pajama bottoms against her bare thighs threatened to drive her to distraction, as did the hands that caressed her back and the lips that slowly moved from lip to jaw to throat, pressing hotly into pale skin.
She was just about to reach for the ends of her nightdress, tired even of the short flimsy garment between them, when a loud scratching sound pulled them both from their reverie. Robert, forcing himself up, looked like a caricature with mussed hair and rumpled clothes. And, beyond that he looked mystified, staring down at her as though the noise radiated from beneath her body.
"The record player," she murmured softly, chuckling.
"Ah, of course." Hoping to continue their romantic evening, Robert rolled off of her and stood, padding across the room to the offending object. He looked curiously at it for a long moment and then turned back. "How do I make it stop?"
Sighing, Cora stood as well, readjusting her nightclothes, and flounced across the room. "Like this," she explained, suiting actions to words and removing it easily.
Robert grinned and stepped closer, nodding in understanding. "You're quite brilliant," he whispered, bringing his lips to her ear and his hands to rest at her waist.
Cora hummed with pleasure and settled happily back into his embrace. "Yes well, perhaps now we can get back to—"
"—Mama, Papa?"
Mary's voice, along with a sharp knock on their door, was the second interruption of the night. They both held their breath for a long moment, as if silence would send her away. Mary, persistent as ever, simply continued speaking through the door.
"—Was that the record player I heard? It's not broken, is it? Papa, I need to speak with you about the meeting tomorrow for a moment…"
"—Just a moment, Mary," he replied, groaning in annoyance. Cora, too, muttered a few rather perturbed sentiments and slowly removed herself from his arms.
"I suppose I'll read," she replied half-heartedly as he moved to open the door.
Robert shrugged sadly in mutual defeat. "There will be other songs, my dear. Though perhaps we need thicker doors…"
