Lotor, [ you know, like the name on the little piece of paper. ] A pleasure.
[ he shifts his weight, and glances behind them to the party still in session. his hands hover somewhere near his sides, claws tiny needlepoints rather than retracted knives.
(he absolutely noticed that shift in expression.)
his eyes dart from the party back to her, her eyes, and then to the neutral zone of her collarbone. he clears his throat with a tiny cough. ]
no subject
[ he shifts his weight, and glances behind them to the party still in session. his hands hover somewhere near his sides, claws tiny needlepoints rather than retracted knives.
(he absolutely noticed that shift in expression.)
his eyes dart from the party back to her, her eyes, and then to the neutral zone of her collarbone. he clears his throat with a tiny cough. ]
May we leave?