Re: log: gwen/flash at the apartment
"You can't prove that. It could be the inverse. Maybe you're a super good fit with the symbiote because you were already empathetic to begin with," she suggested. "I could create a spreadsheet, one with pivot tables, and totally prove my theory." She wouldn't do it, but she absolutely believed she could. She totally believed she was right, too, and it showed. Her expression was more than a little bit smug.
"My knowledge is distant, you know, about the stuff that actually happened in high school. But I've gotten to meet everyone now, and I think everyone has considerable residual stuff they're working on getting over. I think Perry's maybe the worst. He's super messed up about things, especially about his Aunt and the Facility. We met up at the arcade last week, and he was really super concerned about people overhearing us. He also jumps a mile if he accidentally touches me, and he insists on calling me Guinevere."
Sometimes, she planned everything out for months. Other times, she accepted the fact that she might not even be here tomorrow, and today was one of those days. She didn't want to think too much about ports or bruises or evil scientists. She was completely engrossed in how his heartbeat felt against her hand, and she kind of wasn't thinking about anything but the (new) sensation, because she slipped her hand under his shirt and pressed her palm to bare skin. She realized, a second later, that it was possibly so not cool to do that, and she she looked up apologetically as he was saying he would've kissed her. There was an apology forming (very formally) on her lips, but he kissed her neck, and she was pretty sure she completely lost any ability to think. She definitely held her breath. "You totally thought I was going to be gone." She stammered a little. Thinking was hard (also a new sensation). "I thought you wouldn't come back."
Every time he stopped to kiss her, it was like the world blinked out. "I'm going to remind you forever that I kissed you first twice." She would. Also, she really liked his smirk. She wasn't expecting him to tug at her shirt, and she was maybe staring at him like he'd grown a second head, because holding her wasn't something she associated with the donor's memories of him. Holding anyone wasn't something she associated with him.
She kind of stared like a goldfish as he kicked his shoes off, and she was unresistant when he grabbed her hands. But, shock aside, it was actually pretty intuitive, curling against him on her side, her knee over his thigh and his arm felt better under her cheek than she thought an arm could feel. She let one arm fall across his chest, and the bruises on her wrists peeked out just a little from under that shirt. She looked up at him, and she'd totally felt his heart do that skipping thing. "I've never done this before." Which she absolutely didn't need to say probably. "Why wouldn't you kiss me first?" Right, because she had noticed.