[It takes her a moment to convince her hand to react, head turning to the side as she feels out the shapes under her skin. Her eyes stay closed, focused on the one point and its slow building scream back to blood flow. Another inhale, holding and listening until her lips part, subsequent breaths coming more steadily, breathed across the back of her knuckles on her other hand.
The temptation is slight to dig until she hits metal. She might just be satisfied with the way it feels under her fingertips.]
[There are metal balls locking the bars in place on either side, if wants metal (or course that's too easy, but they're a playground for twitchy fingers, and a way to twist the bars, to not let them settle too comfortably. Chase is content to watch while she discovers this, nothing else now worth holding his attention.]
[She's trusting him to watch. She knows this game, just like she knows how to pose as directed. There's years of training under that unruly exterior, but maybe only the spider knows that, and Blonde who has watched Carla submit to her over and over again. Dépouiller. Tourner. Touchez. Jouissance.
She stirs out of it languidly, in absolutely no rush at all besides a desire to stop straddling this chair. She curls one of her legs under her as she turns, considering him from a sideways tilt before offering a hand out to him--(Business, of course, of course.)]
[She answers that just as blandly as when she called him a liar before, deciding not to watch him draw her blood. Clearly not concerned over needles, merely forcing herself not to second guess letting him take it at all.]
It only takes a moment and he's done, tucking the stoppered vial into an envelope, into his bag. Clearing up is a far less industrious process and obviously less of a habit.]
I'll give you a call if that flags anything up. [As if its her curiosity he's satisfying.] Have you eaten anything this morning?
[She doesn't answer him immediately. No one to hide them from is to the quick, and it's forced its way into her head now--(She had hidden many things to avoid Barbet's scorn. Always trying to hide what an animal she was becoming, the animal he was letting her become.) The frown is slight, and she responds distractedly,]
Not yet.
[It probably goes without saying that she's hungry.]
[Anything related to this man she's pining for rates highly among the pills he's unwilling to sugar. He's hardly naive enough to believe his words could shake her out of it - still.
He crouches by the chair, offering back her jacket and a fresh cloth for the still seeping punctures.]
[She lives in the past, the way the dead do. It's strange to be reminded of what the present is.
Carla takes the jacket, laying it across her legs for a moment while she reaches for him. They know perfectly well that she isn't going to say thank you, for any of this, but when she leans over, she approximates it well enough. Her kiss is brief before she's rocked up to her feet to pull her coat back on.]
Sounds good.
[She presses the napkin against her neck, waiting for him.]
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too early;
The temptation is slight to dig until she hits metal. She might just be satisfied with the way it feels under her fingertips.]
too early;
too early;
She stirs out of it languidly, in absolutely no rush at all besides a desire to stop straddling this chair. She curls one of her legs under her as she turns, considering him from a sideways tilt before offering a hand out to him--(Business, of course, of course.)]
too early;
He takes not her hand but her wrist, smoothing his thumb down from the base of her palm. Of course he'd been about to ask.]
You should wear your hair up.
[As he finds the butterfly, the tubing, the vial. Finds the spot at her elbow and this needle she won't feel at all.]
It suits you.
[And this saves him running labs on the swab he'd wiped her neck with.]
too early;
[She answers that just as blandly as when she called him a liar before, deciding not to watch him draw her blood. Clearly not concerned over needles, merely forcing herself not to second guess letting him take it at all.]
too early;
[Is more to the point.
It only takes a moment and he's done, tucking the stoppered vial into an envelope, into his bag. Clearing up is a far less industrious process and obviously less of a habit.]
I'll give you a call if that flags anything up. [As if its her curiosity he's satisfying.] Have you eaten anything this morning?
too early;
Not yet.
[It probably goes without saying that she's hungry.]
too early;
He crouches by the chair, offering back her jacket and a fresh cloth for the still seeping punctures.]
Breakfast?
too early;
Carla takes the jacket, laying it across her legs for a moment while she reaches for him. They know perfectly well that she isn't going to say thank you, for any of this, but when she leans over, she approximates it well enough. Her kiss is brief before she's rocked up to her feet to pull her coat back on.]
Sounds good.
[She presses the napkin against her neck, waiting for him.]