Re: The Apartment: Eddie/Muerte
[Undoing those buttons wasn't a step she was going to take on her own - not quite yet - not when she was still trying to figure out what was and wasn't good timing. Instead, she contented herself with just pressing her nose to the crisp fabric of his shirt and breathing in again. Eyes slipping closed, she tried to chase that foreign-familiar scent, trying to label it in her mind but coming up with nothing concrete. She dropped her shoulder and tipped her head away just a bit at the press of Eddie against her neck, offering him more room there, a longer line from ear to shoulder.] It's different. You know what I mean. [Because she knew that he knew. That he remembered that day.
He proved it with his next comments, and whatever tension had leeched from her shoulders made a sudden reappearance. Her expression had slipped back into worry by the time he pulled back, and she shook her head, worry in her eyes.] Not that different.