Words are getting tossed at his head while her hair is pulled back, hands busy but no where near passive. Flashing smile, taunting words, and getting up into the space of the doorway with him. Her eyes bright and light, sparkling with laughter and that challenged when she leans in. Insulting sailors, herself including.
Irreverent bubble expanding inside his chest and shoving everything else to the corners and the shadows, when he's raising his eyebrows half accusing her of transgressing against herself and their own and half lost in the he fact they all know the worst jokes of their own. Especially on a cross-branch assignment. The way they worked for only people who built ships on purpose to sink them.
Shoulders and chest brushing him, soft and firm, in very little clothing, before her fingers grasped his shirt pulling. A tug with an insult, but he can feel the strength behind it, knows what she could bring to a fight. And. This close its impossible to miss they way her eyes drop to his lips, holding for half a second, against the answering surge of warmth as normal as the continued antagonizing that comes out if her mouth.
While something shifts awkward, clunky, heavy as a brick, in the center of his stomach. Dropping hard as a stone, surprising and a little interiorly disorienting, even when he was pulling the door closed behind him, locking it and stepping out following the hand dragging his shirt, tossing back. "Big words for someone who doesn't even know what they're getting into."
Which is one of the things he does love about her.
Sunshine pouring down over her as she steps out dragging him, like he isn't taller and heavier and trained to break through anything out in his way. The glow catching up in her pale skin, the same delightful color all over every time she came in from mouths in ship, and dark hair, always such and amazing contrast. The brilliance in her eyes, warm in her voice, wide in the smile at her mouth that is as much a challenge to try and beat him, no matter what it is, as it is the promise of what she's offering when he inevitably wins.
All of this is. Things he loves about her. Things that have never changed.
Which doesn't change that there's even more she doesn't know. That might have changed.
That was. He didn't even. It was like stepping into a sudden puddle of water in the dark, not expecting it. Even when his hand was already catching the back of her waist, the higher part of the small of her back and propelling her forward toward the truck. Because maybe that was easier than looking at her face for a second here.
"Get in the truck already. The mountain isn't going to wait for you all day."
no subject
Irreverent bubble expanding inside his chest and shoving everything else to the corners and the shadows, when he's raising his eyebrows half accusing her of transgressing against herself and their own and half lost in the he fact they all know the worst jokes of their own. Especially on a cross-branch assignment. The way they worked for only people who built ships on purpose to sink them.
Shoulders and chest brushing him, soft and firm, in very little clothing, before her fingers grasped his shirt pulling. A tug with an insult, but he can feel the strength behind it, knows what she could bring to a fight. And. This close its impossible to miss they way her eyes drop to his lips, holding for half a second, against the answering surge of warmth as normal as the continued antagonizing that comes out if her mouth.
While something shifts awkward, clunky, heavy as a brick, in the center of his stomach. Dropping hard as a stone, surprising and a little interiorly disorienting, even when he was pulling the door closed behind him, locking it and stepping out following the hand dragging his shirt, tossing back. "Big words for someone who doesn't even know what they're getting into."
Which is one of the things he does love about her.
Sunshine pouring down over her as she steps out dragging him, like he isn't taller and heavier and trained to break through anything out in his way. The glow catching up in her pale skin, the same delightful color all over every time she came in from mouths in ship, and dark hair, always such and amazing contrast. The brilliance in her eyes, warm in her voice, wide in the smile at her mouth that is as much a challenge to try and beat him, no matter what it is, as it is the promise of what she's offering when he inevitably wins.
All of this is. Things he loves about her. Things that have never changed.
Which doesn't change that there's even more she doesn't know. That might have changed.
That was. He didn't even. It was like stepping into a sudden puddle of water in the dark, not expecting it. Even when his hand was already catching the back of her waist, the higher part of the small of her back and propelling her forward toward the truck. Because maybe that was easier than looking at her face for a second here.
"Get in the truck already. The mountain isn't going to wait for you all day."