She inspects him, and he feels comfortable in that scrutiny, in the maneuver of fingers to skin. Even the warmth of her is fine to him, her breathing just above the lining of his lips before they dip to close the distance.
That's when he finally uses palms to shoulder to draw her back, before Eli's tongue can breach the seams of his mouth.
"I'm not ascribing a use to your existence."
His thumb brushes along her thin collarbone, brows canyoned in contemplation and pieced-together perspective. Somewhere behind him, the pilot turns on the radio so that he doesn't hear the hushed tones of their conversation— muted synthesizers drone like a dirge, groaning just above Venom's voice.
"Do you think I'd put a bullet in your head, otherwise?"
no subject
That's when he finally uses palms to shoulder to draw her back, before Eli's tongue can breach the seams of his mouth.
"I'm not ascribing a use to your existence."
His thumb brushes along her thin collarbone, brows canyoned in contemplation and pieced-together perspective. Somewhere behind him, the pilot turns on the radio so that he doesn't hear the hushed tones of their conversation— muted synthesizers drone like a dirge, groaning just above Venom's voice.
"Do you think I'd put a bullet in your head, otherwise?"