This reactive interest in the contents of the drawer only delighted Sophia, who didn’t deliberately lead him on... it just so happened. Thoroughly satisfied with what turned out to be perfect bait, she threw him a devilish little smile and would have left it at that.
Although, he seemed embarrassed about bearing his cards. But why? It's only natural for an inventor to be preoccupied with novelty. So when he eased over to stand beside her, Sophia firmed up her spine. Fun turned into anticipation that the shoe will drop, now that he worked up the resolve to say whatever he thought about earlier. If she were lucky there might be a few more rules defined. But more likely, the shine of something novel between them faded, and there might be a few words to smooth over his inevitable exit.
Yet, none of this came. Tension eased from Sophia’s shoulders enough for her head to tip curiously to the side as he explained himself, with all the bashful indications of a schoolboy asking a girl to dance. Sophia drew in a sharp breath without realizing it, at the word obsessed. Her disbelief tempered only by the way his eyes fixed elsewhere, like this admission stole all his concentration to say. Like it could possibly be the truth?
After a ponderous drag of her cigarette, “I don’t know that you’ll ever be able to recreate that effect,” she agreed quietly. Not for lack of trying. But the charms in that powder were the least complicated factor in what created this feeling. A feeling she expected, at least until now, to exist only in her head. Now that it clearly wasn’t, she - the shameless Sophia Voss - blushed.
The moment felt too precious to break, the way it certainly would if she closed the distance between them the way she wanted to. So Sophia leaned back against the wall, one hand acting a buffer between her lower back and the wall’s edge, the other letting her cigarette burn idle coils of smoke between them. She worried her lower lip over what to say. A distant part of her mind noticed these were clove cigarettes.
“And where we leave things tonight…” she finally ventured. Because she had to know. After what happened between them during his last visit. The distance he put between them after the opera. Even the reservations he had earlier tonight, before she purposefully shook his resolve. “Will you still be turning to your inventions?” Or are you, like me, possibly still a bit obsessed?
Although, he seemed embarrassed about bearing his cards. But why? It's only natural for an inventor to be preoccupied with novelty. So when he eased over to stand beside her, Sophia firmed up her spine. Fun turned into anticipation that the shoe will drop, now that he worked up the resolve to say whatever he thought about earlier. If she were lucky there might be a few more rules defined. But more likely, the shine of something novel between them faded, and there might be a few words to smooth over his inevitable exit.
Yet, none of this came. Tension eased from Sophia’s shoulders enough for her head to tip curiously to the side as he explained himself, with all the bashful indications of a schoolboy asking a girl to dance. Sophia drew in a sharp breath without realizing it, at the word obsessed. Her disbelief tempered only by the way his eyes fixed elsewhere, like this admission stole all his concentration to say. Like it could possibly be the truth?
After a ponderous drag of her cigarette, “I don’t know that you’ll ever be able to recreate that effect,” she agreed quietly. Not for lack of trying. But the charms in that powder were the least complicated factor in what created this feeling. A feeling she expected, at least until now, to exist only in her head. Now that it clearly wasn’t, she - the shameless Sophia Voss - blushed.
The moment felt too precious to break, the way it certainly would if she closed the distance between them the way she wanted to. So Sophia leaned back against the wall, one hand acting a buffer between her lower back and the wall’s edge, the other letting her cigarette burn idle coils of smoke between them. She worried her lower lip over what to say. A distant part of her mind noticed these were clove cigarettes.
“And where we leave things tonight…” she finally ventured. Because she had to know. After what happened between them during his last visit. The distance he put between them after the opera. Even the reservations he had earlier tonight, before she purposefully shook his resolve. “Will you still be turning to your inventions?” Or are you, like me, possibly still a bit obsessed?
![[Image: bwQbAnd.png]](https://i.imgur.com/bwQbAnd.png)
thank you gin for the set<3
![[Image: event.png]](https://www.tickerfactory.com/ezt/d/4;10402;442/st/20240612/e/scandal+is+due/dt/0/k/92a8/event.png)