( it tickles, when she's close. he's not sure what else he would really expect--the little brush of her hair, of her feathers, of her breath is so close to his skin that it does feel treacherously dangerous, or maybe that's just because the only person he thinks that he's let this close is the type to pull his cigarette out of his mouth to clamp her own lips around it, as though there are no boundaries between them whatsoever. he can't picture robin doing that, not necessarily, but the fact that her melodic voice and lilting words are both hard to believe and hard to bleed the truth out of...well, that has to mean something. maybe he's thinking his impression of her over again, like a sketch that's now being painted in with color.
the casino is loud around them, the sound of various card and dice tables lush with the noise of not only the patrons but the staff; he reigns her in a little closer, his arm tightening, and considers that offer. would that make things better, or worse? her spread out on the sheets, her hands between her legs, and this atrociously bright thing--
his shoulders tighten a little, a small, resolute shake of his head. )
You're not cold. ( he can tell, even when it's just the curl of his palm against her back, through the corset of her dress. ) Don't pretend to be just for my sake.
( by the time they've cleared most of the casino riffraff, it's a quieter hallway that meets them--and the promise of private rooms, lines of doors down with no indication of what might be inside. with a glance to her, he lets his arm slip down, moving forward so that he can reach the first door on the left, twisting the knob to bob his head in--and immediately out, shutting the door firmly.
there's a minute shake of his head, a muttered 'occupied', before he goes for the first door on the right, creaking it open with less determination--and then he stands there for a moment, with a sigh, before he cocks his head in invitation. )
no subject
the casino is loud around them, the sound of various card and dice tables lush with the noise of not only the patrons but the staff; he reigns her in a little closer, his arm tightening, and considers that offer. would that make things better, or worse? her spread out on the sheets, her hands between her legs, and this atrociously bright thing--
his shoulders tighten a little, a small, resolute shake of his head. )
You're not cold. ( he can tell, even when it's just the curl of his palm against her back, through the corset of her dress. ) Don't pretend to be just for my sake.
( by the time they've cleared most of the casino riffraff, it's a quieter hallway that meets them--and the promise of private rooms, lines of doors down with no indication of what might be inside. with a glance to her, he lets his arm slip down, moving forward so that he can reach the first door on the left, twisting the knob to bob his head in--and immediately out, shutting the door firmly.
there's a minute shake of his head, a muttered 'occupied', before he goes for the first door on the right, creaking it open with less determination--and then he stands there for a moment, with a sigh, before he cocks his head in invitation. )
Empty. Let's use this one.