(She might as well be glowing, honestly, the hormones flowing through her body keeping her from noticing how much her body is going to feel like it has been run over by a truck tomorrow. Yeah, yeah, she knows, logically, but right now, she's got the same goddamn stupid look on her face and, most importantly, she's letting him see it. All the little imperfections, like her visible fatigue, sweat, redness, and messy hair are all there, and she doesn't even think about trying to illusion it otherwise. It's a weird win bestowed upon him, but a win nonetheless.
With him next to her, she rolls on her stomach, propping herself up with her forearms and keeping her face on her hands. Big blue eyes watch him before she snorts, one of the hands settling on his chest as her nose does the thing.
Yeah. Actually, yeah.)
We can, yeah. Not your worst work.
(But wait, the realization, and she has facepalms for a second in her inevitable laughter. It's both surprise and embarrassment, oh my God.)
... Cripes, all this, and I still don't know what dumb game to get you.
(THE WHOLE REASON SHE WAS UP IN HIS BRAIN IN THE FIRST PLACE. Oh, no, her face has to join her hand on his chest as she chuckles.)
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With him next to her, she rolls on her stomach, propping herself up with her forearms and keeping her face on her hands. Big blue eyes watch him before she snorts, one of the hands settling on his chest as her nose does the thing.
Yeah. Actually, yeah.)
We can, yeah. Not your worst work.
(But wait, the realization, and she has facepalms for a second in her inevitable laughter. It's both surprise and embarrassment, oh my God.)
... Cripes, all this, and I still don't know what dumb game to get you.
(THE WHOLE REASON SHE WAS UP IN HIS BRAIN IN THE FIRST PLACE. Oh, no, her face has to join her hand on his chest as she chuckles.)