That's all right, Ines. Melisande doesn't mind coy. Sometimes it's even more fun.
Her eye has indeed landed on you, her eyes quiet and considering, before she wanders slowly in Ines' direction, peering at her reading, as though she wonders what has this lovely lady so absorbed.
"Fair enough," Melisande says, with a bit of a wave of her hand. "Something to warm you up, I suppose...though I'll admit to a certain difficulty in picturing you alone too often."
Melisande's eyebrows arch. "You are the paragon of confidence, aren't you?" Which is appealing. Melisande has never really been one for the witheringly insecure. They can be so tiresome.
"Close enough." Melisande taps her fingers one by one against the windowsill, her gaze...smouldering. "You must be well admired, where you come from, is that so?"
And because Melisande is looking for it...
Ines is decidedly engrossed in a philosophy treaty. DECIDEDLY. OSTENTATIOUSLY.
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Her eye has indeed landed on you, her eyes quiet and considering, before she wanders slowly in Ines' direction, peering at her reading, as though she wonders what has this lovely lady so absorbed.
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She won't budged unless probed more directly. It's part of the game.
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Pretty, check. Intriguing, check. Melisande's interested.
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The truth? She's horny too.
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"An honest one," she murmurs, her voice richer and more husky by a couple notes. "Praise where praise is due, after all, yes?"
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We never said she didn't have a sense of humor.
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Or everywhere >.>
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