[ To a lesser eye, the manner in which her spine rolls beneath the touch of his hand could resemble a flinch — but she knows he'll feel it for what it really is: a shiver, as she tries to fight the rising sensations caused not only by the drink but the fact that he's put a hand on her to begin with, wanting to do nothing more than to let herself sink into it.
She has to collect herself, gather herself back together, but in spite of those mental insistences she finds herself curving back into his touch, swaying until the back of her is nudged against his front, shoulderblades pressed to the breadth of his chest. ]
Say it again. [ She swallows once, hard, turning her head only slightly — not looking at him straight-on, but out of the corner of her eye as her hand strays down to grasp for his. ] My name, like that.
no subject
She has to collect herself, gather herself back together, but in spite of those mental insistences she finds herself curving back into his touch, swaying until the back of her is nudged against his front, shoulderblades pressed to the breadth of his chest. ]
Say it again. [ She swallows once, hard, turning her head only slightly — not looking at him straight-on, but out of the corner of her eye as her hand strays down to grasp for his. ] My name, like that.