[They were a breath apart, situated closer than Michael can remember getting so near. He could see the pink tint of her lips, and the slightly varied shades of color of her hair.]
I wouldn't mind that either. For dinner? You'd want that.
[He wasn't insecure, but couldn't imagine anyone would want to see that much of him, for that length of time. He was, at best, a boring companion. Not talkative, and mostly stoic.]
Abigail.
[Michael's hand moves up to her shoulder, resting there, uncertain.]
no subject
I wouldn't mind that either. For dinner? You'd want that.
[He wasn't insecure, but couldn't imagine anyone would want to see that much of him, for that length of time. He was, at best, a boring companion. Not talkative, and mostly stoic.]
Abigail.
[Michael's hand moves up to her shoulder, resting there, uncertain.]