[ Strange how she hadn't noticed his hand there until now. Her lips part. Now that it's gone from her back, she almost asks for him to keep it there...
Her gaze raises, looking up from his chest, to his neck, to his chin, his lips, then finally meeting his eyes. He's blushing. She is, too. She's probably overthinking things. Her fingers peel away from his hip one by one; back to the mattress it goes. Now they're only touching where her chest falls plush against his, their legs still precariously intertwined.
Pyra swallows.
She doesn't move, yet. She doesn't quite trust herself to, not when it feels like any other accidental brush might cause-- she doesn't want to think about it. Instead, she focuses upon the conversation, as if bidding for time might cause her everything to calm and cool. ] ...Does it get lonely?
[ Does it get lonely-- who. Who says that about someone else's bedroom? Apparently she does, when she cannot concentrate and her mind is addled. ]
no subject
Her gaze raises, looking up from his chest, to his neck, to his chin, his lips, then finally meeting his eyes. He's blushing. She is, too. She's probably overthinking things. Her fingers peel away from his hip one by one; back to the mattress it goes. Now they're only touching where her chest falls plush against his, their legs still precariously intertwined.
Pyra swallows.
She doesn't move, yet. She doesn't quite trust herself to, not when it feels like any other accidental brush might cause-- she doesn't want to think about it. Instead, she focuses upon the conversation, as if bidding for time might cause her everything to calm and cool. ] ...Does it get lonely?
[ Does it get lonely-- who. Who says that about someone else's bedroom? Apparently she does, when she cannot concentrate and her mind is addled. ]