Re: In-person: Cris/Sam
[He's trying to give her a back rub, but she turns and his palms skate over her and that expensive coat. When she faces him, he tries to get his hands underneath, onto that onesie, fingertips pressing deep into the muscle on her back as he reels her close again, spit still on his lips and his gaze still knotted and black on her.
There's a smile, small, and he shakes his head.] You didn't, baby. I don't... [He cocks his head, ear hovering over his shoulder, his gaze raking up from bowed lips to meet Sam's eyes.] I don't want you to think stuff's gotta be real different, huh? It really was a long time ago. Nothin's worse. But, mira—y... maybe this isn't the place to talk 'bout it, or maybe there's more important stuff, pero—baby, you can't give me lenience you don't give yourself, huh? With Ian? I get blamin' yourself. I really fucking do. But,—[He just shakes his head and he looks at her, a lil sad and serious, before he kisses her again, needier, tongue a blade between her lips and his hand coming up again, this time to rest, palm and knuckles, against Sam's breastbone.]