[She feels the huff in the nighttime darkness as much as sees it in the flicker from lightning and she already knows the pout is coming, like a second breath, before his lips even start to move and so, as they do, hers do too, sliding into a quiet and utterly triumphant smile, nothing as loud or forward as others on the team might give him but intimate and just as obvious for all it's subdued by her nature. It's the smirk to match his pout, enjoying the way the fire green of his eyes narrows at her in the dark, completey unrepentant or cowed. Perhaps there's even a trace of smugness in her quiet triumph. Quiet, rustle of leather against skin, her legs shift, folding under her as she settles at his feet and her head tips, cheek and temple coming to rest against his upraised leg. Her eyes lift to him the same way, lacking the glow of his so that only the lightning flares pick out hints of wine red from time to time in the dark and pale planes of her shadowed face.
no subject
In the dark, those eyes are silently laughing.]