[Likely she'll never see him as relaxed as he is now, that's for certain. Sholmes is always full of energy, and even when he's moping there's still a sharp edge of awareness to him. Now? He might as well be a useless blob lying on the chaise, and one that presses his back into the cushions with equal ease as she pushes against his chest.]
Hm. Do you want me to stop?
[Touching her. He very much doubts it, and the tiniest curve to his lips suggests it.]
no subject
Hm. Do you want me to stop?
[Touching her. He very much doubts it, and the tiniest curve to his lips suggests it.]