Michelle had clearly just gotten through taking control again. Edward was sprawled out on the couch and wearing the evidence of it; a black miniskirt and white, dressy blouse, with black and white striped stockings up to just above his knees. One of the black boots he'd been wearing hung off a foot lazily
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"Why yes, Mustang. Nipples. Marvelous, aren't they? Not that I've had them for, oh, the past 18 years I've been alive." Ed looked vaguely unsure whether he should be irritated or amused.
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Ed sighed, then leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry." Well, he was, and he was too tired to stay mad right now.
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