Re: Memory Emporium; at the counter
The sound of the straw caught her attention in a way that made her stare, eyes intense on his mouth. The weight of his gaze on her seemed somehow right, and she was torn between relief and disappointment when he looked away. Torn between wanting the heaviness of his regard and being able to hide from it, becoming invisible.
"It goes too low," was her response to the zippers. He may have been under the effects of shamelessness, but her words spilled out from that lush mouth without any sort of chemical aid. She looked down at herself, to where the zipper finally ended, inches below her navel, and her hand moved to press there. It wasn't meant to be seductive, but the natural movement of these fingers made it so. Tempting. Look here. The thought of it unzipping all the way would have normally had her blushing in embarrassment. But she would be willing to bet that nothing about this body was every embarrassed.
"Maybe I wouldn't want to know. Maybe I would know to not ask." That was likely too much to expect, though. As easy as it would be for her to simply accept it, nothing ever went that smoothly for her. "I don't want to think I'm her. She doesn't deserve that." It slipped out as she shook her head, the resurrection of worries about what would happen when (not if) this became known.
"Make someone up. I don't want to be either of us." She caught his gaze, green to that dark brown. "Who would you want me to be? Just tell me that, if I ask."