For a moment, Morgan’s face was that of an almost expressionless state of shock, as if her mind hadn’t yet processed the brunt of what had just happened to her.
Slowly, though, the signs to which Liz had grown all too accustomed began to show: Morgan's petite nose scrunched up, the corners of her mouth curled downwards, and her body convulsed with choking gasps.
“That— was so— fucking—gross!” shrieked Morgan in between coughs. She frantically waved her hands in front of her snout, even going as far as kicking her legs wildly about to dispel as much of the foul stench as possible.
With a flustered whimper, the vixen girl clamped her hands around her nose, seemingly unable to remove the stain of Liz’s gas from her nostrils. “Why the hell would you do that?!”
Liz was taken aback, her cheeks flushed with embarrassed heat. “I just had to fart,” she said.
“And so you do it in my face?” Morgan stood up, her eyes flashing with anger, teeth bared in a threatening snarl. “What’s wrong with you?”
Liz couldn’t answer her question at first. She didn’t know what she’d expected to happen, after all— perhaps she had gotten too used to being around people who’d gotten used to her gas? Thinking about her predicament began to flood her mind with memories of being a little girl in grade school, being scolded by the teacher in front of the whole class for her gassy outbursts, which only made her face even hotter with shame.
“I can’t… really control it,” she finally said.
“Of course,” Morgan said, her once amicable tone replaced with spiteful indignation. “Well, isn’t that just fucking peachy?” With a huff, she shouldered past Liz, stomping towards the door. “I’m going to see if it’s too late to get a new roommate.”
Liz flinched as the vixen slammed the door behind her. With a sigh, she slumped down onto the sofa, resting her chin in the palms of her hands. She took a sniff of the still fetid air. “Blech,” she said, “even I have to admit that was a bad one.”
Taking a look back at the room, Liz decided to...