[She laughs at his reaction, the tension somewhat dispelled. Somewhat. There's still the clenched feeling in her gut and the lingering heat on her lips, products of a kiss that should've satisfied more, but she'll set that aside.]
You should come over and let me play you some Cohen. There's a guy who really knows how to do misery.
[And he reaches, tentatively, for her wrist.]
You shouldn't be swifting over this. [He tilts his head, sketching a small shrug.] Give it a few months, you could be telling anecdotes about your lucky escape.
[He can take it. It's right there, not technically his, but she moves the rest of the way to he can wrap his hand around it again if it's what he wants.
Funny, how she doesn't feel like running away right now at all, and yet his words hint that she should.]
[Yes, he should be aiming for less light now. (Much like green asparagus aims for less in terms of 'resemblance to a penis' compared to its white counterpart.)
But she should be aiming for less, too. Less trouble for herself, later on. Something she'll likely not achieve, not by inching closer and leaning against him in a sort of hug.]
[But unfortunately green asparagus ultimately only suggeeds in looking like the penis of a curious elongated alien corpse long dead and held in a jar in area 52]
[Other things lost because of Mae Crawford's terrible timing: the ability to make that inappropiate joke about what else can be more exciting than bread and wine.
OH, WELL.
Look, she's gotten dinner with him before, right? She likes getting meals with him, this is fine. Except,] Except - I think there's someone else who really needs a hug today, and I should probably give her one.
But it gives you time to think about something more exciting.
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Driven me to Swifting.
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[And he reaches, tentatively, for her wrist.]
You shouldn't be swifting over this. [He tilts his head, sketching a small shrug.] Give it a few months, you could be telling anecdotes about your lucky escape.
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Funny, how she doesn't feel like running away right now at all, and yet his words hint that she should.]
Self-deprecation. Hot.
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(Yes, he has a girlfriend. She's not the biggest hugger.)]
I could be a smug arsehole if you'd find that more attractive.
[Though he should... probably be aiming for less.]
Apparently I'm good at it.
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But she should be aiming for less, too. Less trouble for herself, later on. Something she'll likely not achieve, not by inching closer and leaning against him in a sort of hug.]
Find a balance, and you've got a deal.
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That's the part I'm still working on.
[Hug: get.]
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I'll give you a constructive report, just later.
[Yes, hug. Hug, getting. She wishes he didn't smell good, who smells good in a hospital, this is terrible.]
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Later works. [He stretches out his free arm, checks his watch.] Maybe we could get dinner before I'm judged.
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Maybe we could. [She looks up and grin.] Your last supper.
Re: 4th july; backdated; action
And AHA now she'll get dinner with him. Mae Crawford you are a difficult woman]
I was thinking something more exciting than bread and wine.
[But hey that set up did end in a kiss, so-]
4th july; backdated; action
OH, WELL.
Look, she's gotten dinner with him before, right? She likes getting meals with him, this is fine. Except,] Except - I think there's someone else who really needs a hug today, and I should probably give her one.
But it gives you time to think about something more exciting.