A worthy goal that she takes feed of happily, can take it one better as he frustrated push at material that - in direct purpose she meets Thomas' eyes, breathlessly warm, heat in her cheek where otherwise she guides James' hand in the pace of a leisurely stroll not just to her knee, but that inch up, where the high brace of her stockings - neatly tied in military blue. A piece of longing that she kept away from eyes, or rather, away from anyone but the one person who would know
( Some days, she wonders just what they might be without James, now, and then resolves herself to never finding out. )
Her leg settles at the angle, slung in the way that it makes it easy to lean back when the carriage rolls back and she has to catch herself by it instead. Watching them both with a pitched laugh of the sheer ridiculousness that is them, right now. Three grown adults, pawing and playing about in a carriage that does not have space enough for their nonsense to contain it. Which quite probably, what makes it half so tempting.
Lazy warmed eyes as she looks over the figure they cut together and leans back in close. The clock-swing of the drops of earrings that time the rise and fall of the carriage as she goes. Like surf beaten back before it rushes into shore again, pushing James more eagerly into Thomas. An effort to get him where she can pull his vest buttons apart once and for all. At least so that Thomas' hands can find more interesting places to roam whilst she does the work of giving them space.
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( Some days, she wonders just what they might be without James, now, and then resolves herself to never finding out. )
Her leg settles at the angle, slung in the way that it makes it easy to lean back when the carriage rolls back and she has to catch herself by it instead. Watching them both with a pitched laugh of the sheer ridiculousness that is them, right now. Three grown adults, pawing and playing about in a carriage that does not have space enough for their nonsense to contain it. Which quite probably, what makes it half so tempting.
Lazy warmed eyes as she looks over the figure they cut together and leans back in close. The clock-swing of the drops of earrings that time the rise and fall of the carriage as she goes. Like surf beaten back before it rushes into shore again, pushing James more eagerly into Thomas. An effort to get him where she can pull his vest buttons apart once and for all. At least so that Thomas' hands can find more interesting places to roam whilst she does the work of giving them space.