[ without looking away from him, Sprezzatura feels for her discarded pipe, bumps it, and brings it, languid, to her lips. sprawled on the floor? but why?
(she thinks idly of Sholmes, decades older, knelt on a ratty motel room floor, dressed like her, and she in turn dressed unlike herself, holding her foot nestled close into the vee of his groin)
furrows her brow again... ]
Hurm.
[ low, sable, a little raspy.
he can stay on the floor, and she on the chaise lounge. as she considers it, she brings one leg up and tucks it along the length of the cushions, as though only now making herself at home. he's right. it is more comfortable like this. ]
no subject
(she thinks idly of Sholmes, decades older, knelt on a ratty motel room floor, dressed like her, and she in turn dressed unlike herself, holding her foot nestled close into the vee of his groin)
furrows her brow again... ]
Hurm.
[ low, sable, a little raspy.
he can stay on the floor, and she on the chaise lounge. as she considers it, she brings one leg up and tucks it along the length of the cushions, as though only now making herself at home. he's right. it is more comfortable like this. ]
You look stern but behave kind.