[ Her smile is softer now, less teasing, though she tries to hide it by sipping from her mug, looking up at the nightsky instead of Peter.
(Not that she doesn't want to look at him; she finds herself doing it more and more often, watching him in quiet moments, when his attention is elsewhere. Always with a hint of a smile that she doesn't quite reel in, something subtle but charmed.) ]
So am I.
[ Hushed and private, her eyes slipping closed for a moment – enjoying all of this, enjoying him. ]
no subject
(Not that she doesn't want to look at him; she finds herself doing it more and more often, watching him in quiet moments, when his attention is elsewhere. Always with a hint of a smile that she doesn't quite reel in, something subtle but charmed.) ]
So am I.
[ Hushed and private, her eyes slipping closed for a moment – enjoying all of this, enjoying him. ]
But I am not the one shaking.