The image of David covered in feathers was nearly as funny as Dog in a hat.
He was thinking an awful lot, though -- she could tell. It hung between them like a physical object: a myriad of implications, possibilities. Ellie could feel it -- among other things -- but she wasn't thinking of any of them herself. At least not for now.
There was a part of her that wanted to ask what worried him; and maybe she would've, but there was something that kept her quiet, watching instead with curious, dancing eyes. What do you taste like? She wondered. In vinegar. In general.
Of course David knew Ellie wasn't dangerous -- he knew her. Perhaps that was why she couldn't manage to feel shy, shifting her weight against him as if this were something they'd always done. Nice. This is nice. Ellie liked the sound of his murmur; when he spoke his breath was warm against her lips, scented with substance and smoke. "You're cute," she whispered. But the syllable didn't quite fit.
He was saying something about just in case now, and casual. Ellie would have assured him not to worry, if she could manage to string so many words together. The truth of things was that she'd never managed to be anything but, not when it came to things like this. Her heart was elusive -- even to her own understanding -- but a body was a body, and something about David's shyness made hers hum and quicken.
So she nodded, tracing the shape of his mouth with a finger; then it seemed time to return the joint, slip it gently between his lips. This was accompanied with a smile, simultaneously gentle and aroused.
"Yes," Ellie whispered. "I know." She nuzzled against him for a moment as if in reassurance, but with both hands free it was difficult not to let them wander. It had been too long. Too long entirely. Her endless patience had run out for now, it seemed, but there was an easiness to it that made it feel right.
She kept her eyes on his now, waiting, but couldn't seem to keep her hands to herself. What would David do next? An interesting game.