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Pandora Montgomery (pandacharms) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Dora's fingers combed through the hair at the back of his neck, slowly and languidly. She felt warm more from the kiss than from the alcohol, and she blinkd almost owlishly when he pulled back a little abruptly. Her hand trailed down his shoulder and arm as he leaned back, and her lips went unconsciously into a faint pout.

"You're not taking advantage," she assured him. "I'm not that far gone." She'd know, too, she thought, having had enough experience with self medication with alcohol. "And my mood is much improved, especially if I don't think about the bad stuff." Like her fucking arsehole brother.

Her fingers traced aimless patterns on his forearm, but her attention was all on him. "If I'd had a few more it'd be a different story," she conceded with a faint nod. "But I'm steady 'nough." If overly warm. She was tempted to go down to her tank, but she was also very aware she hadn't glamoured her arm earlier either.