Oz took a moment to become lost in the kiss. He was idly considering whether it would be smoother to take her chemise off over her head or to slip it down the way her dress had gone when she suddenly pushed him back with surprising force. He was immediately alarmed. There was nothing playful or flirtatious about a shove like that, or about the way she scrambled back from him. The flush he'd brought to her skin was gone; she was pale now.
Her shove hadn't moved him much, given that he'd been leaning into her so heavily when it happened, but seeing her like this he shifted backwards slightly to put a few more inches between them on the chaise. The look on her face was one he hadn't seen her wear before, but he knew instinctively that getting closer would only make things worse.
"The meaning of what?" he asked. He was confused by this turn of events, and that showed on his face, but he kept his tone level, not rising to hysterics or accusations. There was nothing specific that he could identify in the kisses they'd just shared that she might find objectionable, so he was left with the conclusion that by this she must have meant all of it, but in that case this was an odd moment to choose to protest. "You offered me a tour," he reminded her softly. "You invited me to get comfortable." You had no problem with this when I had my tongue between your legs, Ozy thought, but knew better than to add aloud. That last implied that he was owed something in exchange, and that wasn't what he was trying to convey. He may have played the part of lust-driven patron in order to get himself here in the first place, but he didn't feel entitled to her body and didn't want to say anything that hinted that he did. Rather, he was defending himself by trying to point out just a few moments where she'd had all the agency. If this wasn't what she'd wanted, she had plenty of opportunities before now to say so.
Something about this didn't feel like a case of cold feet, though — at least not only that. If she'd simply changed her mind, would she have looked so pale? But on the other hand, what else could have been the matter?
Her shove hadn't moved him much, given that he'd been leaning into her so heavily when it happened, but seeing her like this he shifted backwards slightly to put a few more inches between them on the chaise. The look on her face was one he hadn't seen her wear before, but he knew instinctively that getting closer would only make things worse.
"The meaning of what?" he asked. He was confused by this turn of events, and that showed on his face, but he kept his tone level, not rising to hysterics or accusations. There was nothing specific that he could identify in the kisses they'd just shared that she might find objectionable, so he was left with the conclusion that by this she must have meant all of it, but in that case this was an odd moment to choose to protest. "You offered me a tour," he reminded her softly. "You invited me to get comfortable." You had no problem with this when I had my tongue between your legs, Ozy thought, but knew better than to add aloud. That last implied that he was owed something in exchange, and that wasn't what he was trying to convey. He may have played the part of lust-driven patron in order to get himself here in the first place, but he didn't feel entitled to her body and didn't want to say anything that hinted that he did. Rather, he was defending himself by trying to point out just a few moments where she'd had all the agency. If this wasn't what she'd wanted, she had plenty of opportunities before now to say so.
Something about this didn't feel like a case of cold feet, though — at least not only that. If she'd simply changed her mind, would she have looked so pale? But on the other hand, what else could have been the matter?
MJ is the light of my life <3