[She might have replied to his thing about bitchboys and fuckbois, but she's still looking at that picture, biting her lip as she wonders if maybe it wouldn't be the end of the world to go over, to join him in bed when he's looking like that...
And when he sends that next picture she actually moans at the sight. It's unfair, how good he looks. It's unfair how much she loves his hair like that, how his expression makes her heart beat faster and how warm and welcoming he looks without his shirt off in that bed. She doesn't find sweat pants very sexy in general, but when they're clinging to his body this way she can't think of anything more enticing. Shit.
She's too drunk to play the games, inhibitions too lowered to do or say the things she might normally to save her pride.]
Better. Much better. I want to straddle your body and lick every inch of that exposed skin...fuck, Rook. I was supposed to be the one tormenting you tonight not the other way around.
[She should take a picture. She should shove this shit back at him. Competitive as she occasionally is, Eun decides to do that but perhaps doesn't think too much about what else he may glean from her picture. She's in a thin tank top that's twisted around her body enough to expose a fair amount of breast and her stomach, and deep blue pajama shorts that are almost as thin. Certainly they ride up high on her thighs. What pulls them tight, however, is her hand pressed between her thighs. Because she can't not touch herself. Because she thinks it'll balance the scales. Not realizing that he'll know exactly how much or how quickly she's been affected by this exchange. She sends it, dark-eyed expression and all, before she can think better of it.]
no subject
And when he sends that next picture she actually moans at the sight. It's unfair, how good he looks. It's unfair how much she loves his hair like that, how his expression makes her heart beat faster and how warm and welcoming he looks without his shirt off in that bed. She doesn't find sweat pants very sexy in general, but when they're clinging to his body this way she can't think of anything more enticing. Shit.
She's too drunk to play the games, inhibitions too lowered to do or say the things she might normally to save her pride.]
Better. Much better. I want to straddle your body and lick every inch of that exposed skin...fuck, Rook. I was supposed to be the one tormenting you tonight not the other way around.
[She should take a picture. She should shove this shit back at him. Competitive as she occasionally is, Eun decides to do that but perhaps doesn't think too much about what else he may glean from her picture. She's in a thin tank top that's twisted around her body enough to expose a fair amount of breast and her stomach, and deep blue pajama shorts that are almost as thin. Certainly they ride up high on her thighs. What pulls them tight, however, is her hand pressed between her thighs. Because she can't not touch herself. Because she thinks it'll balance the scales. Not realizing that he'll know exactly how much or how quickly she's been affected by this exchange. She sends it, dark-eyed expression and all, before she can think better of it.]
What ideas does this give you?