[ Once he settles in to his side of the bedroll, she moves until she's sitting against him, not really in his lap like before now that they have the bedroll to cocoon them, but closer than she would usually feel comfortableโ closer than she honestly feels comfortable now. And even though she got his permission before, once she's settled against him she looks up again, her expression serious, concerned. ]
Is this okay?
[ She sounds surprisingly composed, but the truth is that she's a mess, her cheeks a little too pink and her pulse a little too fast, because everything about this is mortifying. Every instinct she has is telling her to pull away, put distance between themโ
Except, of course, for the instincts telling her to stay, to press closer, to allow herself to actually enjoy the warmth and the comfort and the niceness of just being held.
There are too many of that second kind of instinct for Eula's liking. ]
Iโ I know this is not exactly an ideal situation.
[ And she's stating the obvious, but it's better to have something to say than nothing at all. Right? ]
no subject
Is this okay?
[ She sounds surprisingly composed, but the truth is that she's a mess, her cheeks a little too pink and her pulse a little too fast, because everything about this is mortifying. Every instinct she has is telling her to pull away, put distance between themโ
Except, of course, for the instincts telling her to stay, to press closer, to allow herself to actually enjoy the warmth and the comfort and the niceness of just being held.
There are too many of that second kind of instinct for Eula's liking. ]
Iโ I know this is not exactly an ideal situation.
[ And she's stating the obvious, but it's better to have something to say than nothing at all. Right? ]