[ Nell couldn't tell you what it is she just said, the thing that finally caught Melys's ear. Something complimentary probably, if lines like there or do that again count. She's not a talker, left to her own devices, but far from shy and now with a laugh in her throat bit back just beneath the urging, lingering under the hoarse rasp her voice slides into so easily when she's breathing hard.
And she is breathing hard now, quick and loud in the close confines of the closet, the crowd and the music from the main room a muffled buzz, not quite enough to drown out the creak of the wood shelves she's currently braced a hand on, or the soft thump of wall meeting the barrel she's backed Melys up into, or the rustle of cloth shoved out of the way. (Nell didn't flinch the first time that green shard of magic touched skin, shoulders braced up like someone expecting a blow and goosebumps racing down her chest in anticipation of it, a flicker of disappointment when it doesn't come. Anticlimactic, but she expects to have that made up to her.) Callused hands tripping over clavicles, sternum, ribs--
That's what she'd said, tracing the sharp jut of a hipbone with a fingertip: I don't think I've ever fucked anyone even bonier than me. You could just about cut someone. Romance, alive and well in Nevarra. ]
"nice tits" and other successful pickup lines, a guide by melys
And she is breathing hard now, quick and loud in the close confines of the closet, the crowd and the music from the main room a muffled buzz, not quite enough to drown out the creak of the wood shelves she's currently braced a hand on, or the soft thump of wall meeting the barrel she's backed Melys up into, or the rustle of cloth shoved out of the way. (Nell didn't flinch the first time that green shard of magic touched skin, shoulders braced up like someone expecting a blow and goosebumps racing down her chest in anticipation of it, a flicker of disappointment when it doesn't come. Anticlimactic, but she expects to have that made up to her.) Callused hands tripping over clavicles, sternum, ribs--
That's what she'd said, tracing the sharp jut of a hipbone with a fingertip: I don't think I've ever fucked anyone even bonier than me. You could just about cut someone. Romance, alive and well in Nevarra. ]