[ When her foolproof pillow plan (okay, not foolproof but it was the best plan she’d had at the time short of just bolting from the bed into the night) is quickly dismantled by the Master Tactician she can’t help but stare in abject, embarrassed horror as he flips her onto her back. His grip is light, all pretense that she could easily break from if she so wished. But she finds her body sluggish as her mind continues to reel from the words that she knows pour from her very being every time she was near him.
For a moment her breath is lodged in her throat, pulsing under the places where his lips meet her skin. Why did those words have such a chokehold on her when she knows she’s said as much in other ways? Every fleeting touch, every pester and bicker, every prank and joke, every adoring look that she gave him when she didn’t think he was looking all add up to one resounding truth: she is awash in her love of him.
The look on her face says it all.
It shouldn't be embarrassing - but it is for some bizarre, strange reason. For some reason she feels laid bare. Her eyes shut as she groans in what would sound like mock despair to someone who didn't know her as well as Claude. Except it is real. Her words drip in embarrassment as she casts her gaze heavenwards as if that would somehow make it less so. ]
You're trying to kill me! The least you could have done was give me a little warning.
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[ When her foolproof pillow plan (okay, not foolproof but it was the best plan she’d had at the time short of just bolting from the bed into the night) is quickly dismantled by the Master Tactician she can’t help but stare in abject, embarrassed horror as he flips her onto her back. His grip is light, all pretense that she could easily break from if she so wished. But she finds her body sluggish as her mind continues to reel from the words that she knows pour from her very being every time she was near him.
For a moment her breath is lodged in her throat, pulsing under the places where his lips meet her skin. Why did those words have such a chokehold on her when she knows she’s said as much in other ways? Every fleeting touch, every pester and bicker, every prank and joke, every adoring look that she gave him when she didn’t think he was looking all add up to one resounding truth: she is awash in her love of him.
The look on her face says it all.
It shouldn't be embarrassing - but it is for some bizarre, strange reason. For some reason she feels laid bare. Her eyes shut as she groans in what would sound like mock despair to someone who didn't know her as well as Claude. Except it is real. Her words drip in embarrassment as she casts her gaze heavenwards as if that would somehow make it less so. ]
You're trying to kill me! The least you could have done was give me a little warning.