Rose has to tuck her chin -- Pearl is clearly not keen to draw out any kind of tease -- but she’s still carrying a humble grin as the last stitch of clothing disappears into the bag. “So efficient.”
Politely ignoring Pearl’s obvious nudity, she twists the bag closed into a neat bundle (it is awful roomy) that she sets aside next to the armchair.
One glance is all Rose indulges in. Just one! It’s good to know where the tender places are. For posterity. The snow has pinked Pearl’s skin to rawness, in places -- ribbed with goosebumps and shivering, still. It goes without saying that her nipples would be hard from the cold, and should be duly avoided when drying off, but Rose spares a glance just to check.
“I don’t have anything of yours you can slip in -- serves you right, for never forgetting anything --” She takes a step forward again and sets to a brisk towel-drying. Brisk, but ginger. Steps back again, too, with Pearl in tow, once she realizes she's barefoot on the freezing-wet welcome mat. “But you can use my robe while we get some hot tea in you.”
A quick run over her arms, her sliver of shoulders, the slope of neck… Rose nearly surprises herself, even, when she tugs the loop of towel just enough to tip Pearl closer: just enough to sneak a quick peck on her chilly nose. Her look is impish. “I’ve missed you, you know.”
But then she’s already side-stepping to grab her robe, and another towel -- leaving the other draped languid on Pearl’s shivery shoulders.
no subject
Politely ignoring Pearl’s obvious nudity, she twists the bag closed into a neat bundle (it is awful roomy) that she sets aside next to the armchair.
One glance is all Rose indulges in. Just one! It’s good to know where the tender places are. For posterity. The snow has pinked Pearl’s skin to rawness, in places -- ribbed with goosebumps and shivering, still. It goes without saying that her nipples would be hard from the cold, and should be duly avoided when drying off, but Rose spares a glance just to check.
“I don’t have anything of yours you can slip in -- serves you right, for never forgetting anything --” She takes a step forward again and sets to a brisk towel-drying. Brisk, but ginger. Steps back again, too, with Pearl in tow, once she realizes she's barefoot on the freezing-wet welcome mat. “But you can use my robe while we get some hot tea in you.”
A quick run over her arms, her sliver of shoulders, the slope of neck… Rose nearly surprises herself, even, when she tugs the loop of towel just enough to tip Pearl closer: just enough to sneak a quick peck on her chilly nose. Her look is impish. “I’ve missed you, you know.”
But then she’s already side-stepping to grab her robe, and another towel -- leaving the other draped languid on Pearl’s shivery shoulders.