You can feel me, then? [He's never been sure just how much Annie can feel, how much of it is her remembering what things feel like and how much is her feeling them here and now.
He doesn't want to think about her remembering how this feels, because then she's thinking of that bastard who murdered her, and thinking about Owen makes Mitchell see red. Regardless of the fact that him murdering Annie has made it possible for them to have some sort of a real relationship. That doesn't bear thinking about.
He slides his hands up her spine, free for once of his olive green gloves, his fingers trailing along the wing of her shoulder blades and tangling in the ends of her hair.]
no subject
He doesn't want to think about her remembering how this feels, because then she's thinking of that bastard who murdered her, and thinking about Owen makes Mitchell see red. Regardless of the fact that him murdering Annie has made it possible for them to have some sort of a real relationship. That doesn't bear thinking about.
He slides his hands up her spine, free for once of his olive green gloves, his fingers trailing along the wing of her shoulder blades and tangling in the ends of her hair.]