---

As he withdrew his hand from her neck her own hands automatically fell away too.

Tig drew herself up and folded her arms across her chest. Good. She felt oddly awkward and untethered. It wasn't that she was surprised that he'd agreed to her demand - it was hardly unreasonable and considering the cost to her pride he damn well ought to - it was how suddenly he was agreeing, letting go of her, how anticlimactic it all was. It was like the floor had just opened up beneath her and she was looking down at a void, waiting for the inevitable fall that wasn't coming.

She was also disquieted to find that some unthinking part of her was dismayed by his abrupt withdrawal. It was a highly embarrassing revelation and consequently there was a faint hint of a blush in her cheeks. It felt like they were on the verge of parting ways for the evening and Tig loathed how opposed she felt to the mere notion of it. When had she grown so attached to him? Certainly it had nothing to do with affection or sentimental attachment, he just happened to be stimulating company that was all, but the dependence on him for even that was troubling. She ought to wean herself off of him, keep her distance, but that also meant depriving herself and that seemed almost counterintuitive.

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Outfit | Tag: Tiberius Lestrange | Notes: