Re: Muerte / Eddie
An hour can be a lot of time... [Eyebrow both up, her expression shifted into considering interest. And though she'd been teasing, she did reach out an arm to press her palm flat against his side, feeling the warmth of him through his thin t-shirt. There wasn't anything overly tantalizing about the touch - it was more to simply reassure herself that he wasn't going to fade away to a specter beneath her hands.
She stepped closer as Eddie pulled the ankh from his drawer, and pressed a finger to it once he held it, keeping her touch there for a moment, even through the cold burn of it, a slight tightness around her eyes. It was like pressing her finger to a steel pole in the bitterest days of winter, and she only needed to leave it there for a short while before the burn of chill turned to a tingle. The rest of the ankh stayed warm in Eddie's palm, and when she pressed that same fingertip to the inside of his wrist, over the warm beat of his pulse, it was fishy white and frigid and took a few seconds to start to steal a little bit of heat from his own skin, warming back up slowly. And then, as her eyes had been on their hands the entire time, she lifted her gaze up to his and raised a wry eyebrow.] So which one of us is wrong about it? [Her lips tipped back into the slightest smile. The chill of it didn't bother her as much as it maybe should have - it was more a strange curiosity.]