[she watches his face, the sharp line of his jaw, the angle of a cheek turning away from her, ocean blue eyes glints of color... and something inside her goes just a bit unknotted and loose. For her...
He bought the knuckles for her.
Maybe it's silly to notice, and she's sure it is because she's not even going to pretend otherwise but - he bought her diamonds.
Her head dips down and it's just coincidental that it tucks her just that little bit closer to him and the not-quite circle between his offered arm and the rest of his body. Her fingers shift again, leave her heart to rest light, barely there, against the top of his hand on the celebratory red and autumn sun catching glint of crystal true stones. In some world, maybe, this is a bribe, offered to shunt her feminine anger aside with a pretty bauble. To her though, it's an apology, an offering, a need, and it's given instead of words because words aren't comfortable between them, would only be broken attempts at what they're better at without them anyway. Her hair hides her face and it sways, a brush against his bare arm, when she shakes her head.]
I wouldn't sell it back.
[because it's a gift from you... and maybe he hears that too in what she doesn't say or maybe he doesn't but when she lifts her face to him, there's a small, soft smile on her lips and in her eyes, one that's only beginning to slip out from time to time, only for him, shy in its offering. It wipes the shadows and the smoke out of her eyes when it appears, whispers a heart back to him, his or hers. It's only a second before it changes to something light, brighter, but it leaves its softness behind in her eyes. Fingers leaving his, she lifts them for him, the beginning hint of comfort moving back into her face. Her glove isn't equipped, the tiger fang back with her pack in the room she shares with the other girls.]
no subject
He bought the knuckles for her.
Maybe it's silly to notice, and she's sure it is because she's not even going to pretend otherwise but - he bought her diamonds.
Her head dips down and it's just coincidental that it tucks her just that little bit closer to him and the not-quite circle between his offered arm and the rest of his body. Her fingers shift again, leave her heart to rest light, barely there, against the top of his hand on the celebratory red and autumn sun catching glint of crystal true stones. In some world, maybe, this is a bribe, offered to shunt her feminine anger aside with a pretty bauble. To her though, it's an apology, an offering, a need, and it's given instead of words because words aren't comfortable between them, would only be broken attempts at what they're better at without them anyway. Her hair hides her face and it sways, a brush against his bare arm, when she shakes her head.]
I wouldn't sell it back.
[because it's a gift from you... and maybe he hears that too in what she doesn't say or maybe he doesn't but when she lifts her face to him, there's a small, soft smile on her lips and in her eyes, one that's only beginning to slip out from time to time, only for him, shy in its offering. It wipes the shadows and the smoke out of her eyes when it appears, whispers a heart back to him, his or hers. It's only a second before it changes to something light, brighter, but it leaves its softness behind in her eyes. Fingers leaving his, she lifts them for him, the beginning hint of comfort moving back into her face. Her glove isn't equipped, the tiger fang back with her pack in the room she shares with the other girls.]
Put it on me?