[ he studies, he watches, he memorizes every delineating curve of her body as she walks past him, clothed in barely nothing, her firm breasts bare for lack of the usual tank-top.
He would never stop finding her beautiful.
With a swift snag of his hand, he pulls her back as she walks past him, pressing his body against hers as he steals a kiss. A reminder and a promise. She was his. ] It's on the left.
[ and then he takes a step back, a smirk playing across his lips. He knows what she wants. She'll have to do the asking. It's how they always played this game. There was comfort in it. ]