( he gets it. relief washes over her, and she nods minutely — god, and isn’t it nice that he understands? that she doesn’t have to mimic or pantomime or wave her hands to get him to shut up about anything he doesn’t want overheard. it could be nice, not having to explain herself all the time, not having to jump through hoops to be understood… but if he understood her, would he be okay with that? would he accept her as who she is? what she is?
impulsively, natasha reaches out and takes his hand. his palms are calloused, fingers rough, and there’s something about it that is comforting. pulling him down with her, she sits, pressing her opposite hand to his knee. )
You can touch it if you want. ( his eyes had lingered, but not just in the usual way. flicking her fingers across his jeans, she raises her hand to press them to the o-ring nestled in the dip of her collarbone. ) Just don’t try to take it off unless you want the zap of a life time.
( she’s stalling. stalling so they don’t have to finish this conversation — but they will. she’s running out of time to have it, otherwise. )
no subject
impulsively, natasha reaches out and takes his hand. his palms are calloused, fingers rough, and there’s something about it that is comforting. pulling him down with her, she sits, pressing her opposite hand to his knee. )
You can touch it if you want. ( his eyes had lingered, but not just in the usual way. flicking her fingers across his jeans, she raises her hand to press them to the o-ring nestled in the dip of her collarbone. ) Just don’t try to take it off unless you want the zap of a life time.
( she’s stalling. stalling so they don’t have to finish this conversation — but they will. she’s running out of time to have it, otherwise. )