(How is it that he manages to be so incredibly ridiculous, and still draw out the most honest laughter from her lungs? It's not even that it's funny, because doy, they're fucking, the word "hard" gots to be considered low-hanging fruit for comedy, but it's much more about the fact that he doesn't pull back from taking it. They've changed through this, she can tell, many doors have opened and thoughts were overridden as they navigate it, and yet, it still feels exactly like them.
Funnily enough, communicating now feels so much lighter than it had been in the past months. She can recognize what he's doing with those images, telling her he's paying attention, committing her to memory, and she doesn't recoil from it for once. Good that he can see the smile on her lips, then. She's not mad about it. She's not sure the word that could describe her feeling, but relieved comes close enough and she can feel that he is too. Like the baggage has lost a bit of its weight.
The same way he takes a second, she is, too. She can see herself coming closer, especially after all that psychic insanity they had been doing, but likewise, she doesn't want it to end so soon either. Heavy breathing, sounds, the way his heart is pounding against her, and how the skin of his hand feels once she runs her thumb against it, as a smirk forms on her lips. She presses it on his arm in the shape of a kiss, really the only thing she can reach easily.)
Quentin Quire is right are words I will never say.
(She admits it in her mind, very clearly, he can hear it.)
no subject
Funnily enough, communicating now feels so much lighter than it had been in the past months. She can recognize what he's doing with those images, telling her he's paying attention, committing her to memory, and she doesn't recoil from it for once. Good that he can see the smile on her lips, then. She's not mad about it. She's not sure the word that could describe her feeling, but relieved comes close enough and she can feel that he is too. Like the baggage has lost a bit of its weight.
The same way he takes a second, she is, too. She can see herself coming closer, especially after all that psychic insanity they had been doing, but likewise, she doesn't want it to end so soon either. Heavy breathing, sounds, the way his heart is pounding against her, and how the skin of his hand feels once she runs her thumb against it, as a smirk forms on her lips. She presses it on his arm in the shape of a kiss, really the only thing she can reach easily.)
Quentin Quire is right are words I will never say.
(She admits it in her mind, very clearly, he can hear it.)