[He watches her with an eager gaze, and in turn Virginia fights off nagging feelings of self-consciousness in favor of smiling at him. Though she might be aware of every flaw, his eyes speak only of appreciation for her. So if there's a touch more color to her cheeks when she sits next to Robert, well. He's entirely to blame for it.
Which doesn't make it at all a bad thing.]
Oh, that's fine; thank you. [She takes her glass, even goes so far as to steal a sip of the wine, although that's not at all where her interests lie. Even as she has her drink, her gaze is now on him, watching for some small sign of what he wants, what he's ready to allow them both to indulge in. She thinks about what he said just before she went off into the kitchen, the words about hope, their conversation through dinner and earlier. So many of her choices lately have felt like leaps, and yet none have ended with harsh regrets. In truth even this hardly feels real despite that it's happening, that he's close enough for her to touch and feel his warmth.]
You know, if you'd like, I think you can take a few more liberties. [So once more she throws herself into the unknown, setting her glass down next to the now empty bottle. She's far less interested in that now, and perhaps he might be too when she reaches for the one still in his hand. It's an opportunity for him to stop her should he wish, those last few seconds it takes to put his wine safely away, where it can be forgotten.
After all, she's already proved distracting for him. She wouldn't want whatever comes next to be interrupted by an accidental spill.]
no subject
Which doesn't make it at all a bad thing.]
Oh, that's fine; thank you. [She takes her glass, even goes so far as to steal a sip of the wine, although that's not at all where her interests lie. Even as she has her drink, her gaze is now on him, watching for some small sign of what he wants, what he's ready to allow them both to indulge in. She thinks about what he said just before she went off into the kitchen, the words about hope, their conversation through dinner and earlier. So many of her choices lately have felt like leaps, and yet none have ended with harsh regrets. In truth even this hardly feels real despite that it's happening, that he's close enough for her to touch and feel his warmth.]
You know, if you'd like, I think you can take a few more liberties. [So once more she throws herself into the unknown, setting her glass down next to the now empty bottle. She's far less interested in that now, and perhaps he might be too when she reaches for the one still in his hand. It's an opportunity for him to stop her should he wish, those last few seconds it takes to put his wine safely away, where it can be forgotten.
After all, she's already proved distracting for him. She wouldn't want whatever comes next to be interrupted by an accidental spill.]