Pearl’s fingers are rattletrap-shaking around her mug: like she’s trying to hide, nearly. Rose can’t have that.
She smiles at her reply -- “That’s true.” -- and gently, gently takes the mug. It’s mostly empty. Rose wouldn’t be able to reach the coffee table to place it down if she weren’t rearranging Pearl’s legs in her lap: if she weren’t sitting up, shifting position: settling herself between them.
“But one thing in particular, now.” Her arms post on either side of Pearl’s waist, and the bottom hem of the robe begins to ride up gently as she leans closer. Rose’s eyes drink her in: ways far more warming than tea. “Would you like to know what it is?”
no subject
She smiles at her reply -- “That’s true.” -- and gently, gently takes the mug. It’s mostly empty. Rose wouldn’t be able to reach the coffee table to place it down if she weren’t rearranging Pearl’s legs in her lap: if she weren’t sitting up, shifting position: settling herself between them.
“But one thing in particular, now.” Her arms post on either side of Pearl’s waist, and the bottom hem of the robe begins to ride up gently as she leans closer. Rose’s eyes drink her in: ways far more warming than tea. “Would you like to know what it is?”