If she was going to be honest with herself, Fleur liked the feeling of his hair against her skin and the warmth of his cheek along her fingertips. But she wasn't trying to be very honest. This was just them being friends, right? Joking around. She wasn't about to do anything crazy.
Though she was drunk, and he was so strong and solid next to her and the way he smelled was amazing. And some part of her wanted to know what he'd look like above her; that hair sticking to his face, sweat making his muscles shine -- but that wasn't what she was supposed to be thinking about at all. Fuck. To say she was sexually frustrated would be an understatement. Wasn't she supposed to be thinking about Bill anyway? Figuring out what to do with him? Well that was just hard when Roger was standing next to her. He never made her feel inadequate or unimportant. He was a great friend.
She physically shook her head, hoping that would take the thoughts out of her mind. She shouldn't be thinking this much while intoxicated anyhow. This left her dizzy and she found herself leaning against Roger again, her breasts brushing against the spot just under his pecs.
She pouted at him when he said she was fired, but then just laughed pulling the hand that was in his hair back down and grabbing onto his arm to steady herself. "Oh. Zat is so sad. What will I be doing now zat I am jobless?"