Mattie tried not to pay too much attention to the flex of his arm as he ran a hand through his hair, but her imagination, wild as it was, was getting the better of her – and making her blush now, just a little. But – beneath all the professorness of him – his grey eyes were quite something, and his jawline and his body both seemed more solid, firm, manlier than the seventh years boys she knew. In half a year, she would be out in society, and in the company of men... so this was surely good practice. (Not that she expected to be in this particular position, necessarily, but...)
“Yes – it’s in my dress pocket,” Mattie remembered, brightening for a moment, although she couldn’t see a great deal from here, so when she moved her hand to try and get into the pocket hidden in the folds of her dress, she ended up touching his hip instead of hers. It would be difficult to rearrange herself under him; perhaps with his free hand he could go digging. “I’m sorry – do you think you could –?”
There were her Lonely Hearts letters in the same pocket, but Mattie had forgotten about those entirely in view of the prospect of him sort-of-having-to-feel-her-up.
“Yes – it’s in my dress pocket,” Mattie remembered, brightening for a moment, although she couldn’t see a great deal from here, so when she moved her hand to try and get into the pocket hidden in the folds of her dress, she ended up touching his hip instead of hers. It would be difficult to rearrange herself under him; perhaps with his free hand he could go digging. “I’m sorry – do you think you could –?”
There were her Lonely Hearts letters in the same pocket, but Mattie had forgotten about those entirely in view of the prospect of him sort-of-having-to-feel-her-up.
