Re: The Apartment: Eddie/Muerte
[It was an easy thing to turn her wrist and thread fingers through his hair, to rub her thumb up along the back of his neck. After the worry and confusion and heavy feelings in the pit of her stomach, touching was easy. It was good to feel him under her fingertips. She didn't quite laugh, but let out a breath that held amusement in it.] You would think it's a compliment. [Her voice was warm and fonder than she'd anticipated sounding.
Her thumb pressed in at the base of his skull, right where the muscle was tight, and she let out a tiny displeased sound at the discovery of it. Careful of the things in her lap - gathering them into the bowl of her shirt without any of them touching her skin - she put her hands on his shoulders to angle him to lean against the front of the chair. Gentle but insistent, and then she slid one leg over so that he was bracketed by the press of her calves against his sides. She listened to him and his list of rogue worries as she finally pressed both thumbs to the base of his neck and stroked up firmly on either side of his spine.]
I don't know if I was selfish. It's still hard for me to tell sometimes what is and isn't. [Another stroke of her thumbs, up and back down under his collar, into the muscle between neck and shoulders. And her words continued on, unaffected by what she was doing.] I was selfish once I got here. I get that, now.