LET'S DO THE TIMESKIIIP AGAIIIN!!!futureslugqueenFebruary 17 2010, 19:14:19 UTC
[--IT'S JUST A STEP TO THE LEF--no wait. LATER, in the batcave--or Sasuke's house. Yes, Sasuke's house. Because somehow, she owns his balls, so. Haha. Haaa. What Sakura says is executed, fuckers-- LATER, THERE.
She's undressed except for a white bedsheet wrapped around her body, and just came out of the bathroom this way.] I figured this would help a bit.
[He figured he'd never be as nervous awkward as he was this morning, but for some reason, this feels a million times worse. Now he understands how she must have felt, but sympathy doesn't do much for making this any more bearable -- if anything, it makes it worse, because this is an exchange that two friends like themselves definitely could have gone without.
He's sitting in his desk chair, staring rather intensely at the blank paper in front of him. And not looking up except to glance at her with his peripheral vision -- and then fully when he notices the sheet--
[Honestly, no logic at all. Rolling her eyes, she pulls a stool and places it right under the window, before sitting down. Her back is only partially turned to him, so he can still see part of her profile, and her chin touches her shoulder, eyes looking down. She lets the sheet fall down to her waist.]
[but awkward silence is awkward enough, so he reaches over to just click on the radio as a distraction -- but for some reason it's on the American-made channel, and he knows enough English to understand what's on, so he just shuts it off again because sjkdflksdfs. No.]
and we're going to completely ignore the lyrics and just focus. Really. Just focus.
His eyes move up her back -- slowly, and then it turns into a stare for a split-second before he moves up to her face quickly. Just trying to get a feel of the picture. Not acknowledging that he's never seen her like this. ...Because he hasn't.
[Ignoring the music. Ignoring the music. Ignoring the visuals the music is GIVING and now really isn't a good time to be staring at her bare back, what.]
[...shifts slightly after a minute. Art =/= his thing, and neither does sitting still and trying to force himself to cough some up.]
[totally clueless; and being rather used to ignoring people things, he manages to drown out the music for the most part, so. About 87% focused. Eh. 82%.
Working on one curve of her back, though, he can't ignore that it is indeed a curve, and one he hasn't really noticed, but. It seems like she has a lot of curves that he hasn't really noticed. And while he doesn't think of her as vulnerable -- he's convinced she can handle herself in most cases -- something about her now strikes him as vulnerable, but maybe that's just because she's so... open. And... soft.]
[coughs quietly] ...Can you straighten up? Just on the right. A little.
She's undressed except for a white bedsheet wrapped around her body, and just came out of the bathroom this way.] I figured this would help a bit.
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He's sitting in his desk chair, staring rather intensely at the blank paper in front of him. And not looking up except to glance at her with his peripheral vision -- and then fully when he notices the sheet--
...The sheet. His sheet. What.]
...You couldn't have brought your own?
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[Honestly, no logic at all. Rolling her eyes, she pulls a stool and places it right under the window, before sitting down. Her back is only partially turned to him, so he can still see part of her profile, and her chin touches her shoulder, eyes looking down. She lets the sheet fall down to her waist.]
This okay?
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...Yeah.
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[but awkward silence is awkward enough, so he reaches over to just click on the radio as a distraction -- but for some reason it's on the American-made channel, and he knows enough English to understand what's on, so he just shuts it off again because sjkdflksdfs. No.]
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[Pauses at the silence.] Hey, turn it back on.
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and we're going to completely ignore the lyrics and just focus. Really. Just focus.
His eyes move up her back -- slowly, and then it turns into a stare for a split-second before he moves up to her face quickly. Just trying to get a feel of the picture. Not acknowledging that he's never seen her like this. ...Because he hasn't.
And he's starting.
Now.]
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And maybe slightly turned on. By the song. Damn music.]
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[...shifts slightly after a minute. Art =/= his thing, and neither does sitting still and trying to force himself to cough some up.]
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a pucker here.
a forcedness in breathing calmly.]
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Working on one curve of her back, though, he can't ignore that it is indeed a curve, and one he hasn't really noticed, but. It seems like she has a lot of curves that he hasn't really noticed. And while he doesn't think of her as vulnerable -- he's convinced she can handle herself in most cases -- something about her now strikes him as vulnerable, but maybe that's just because she's so... open. And... soft.]
[coughs quietly] ...Can you straighten up? Just on the right. A little.
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...Even so.] ...This is a lost cause.
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