Re: The Lounge - Cass and Tim and Open
Unless Cass was mistaken -- and she doubted she was -- there was a hunger in Tim's gaze. The kind she'd seen in him weeks ago in the safe house when Tim had sat her on the bathroom sink. She blushed, remembering everything that had happened, and almost happened.
When Tim kissed the back of her neck, she shivered and almost dropped her plate. She successfully fought off the urge to turn around and plant one on him, because she understood that the kiss was small and secret and just for the two of them. There would be time later for them to properly express themselves. So she continued to load up her plate with food that she -- in a true rarity -- had very little interest in eating.
Cass was watching the singer called Skylark when Tim ushered her away to a quiet area. Clearly, he had something he wanted to tell her. Cass' heart raced.
He didn't disappoint. While she had been reading the very signals he was telling her in his body language for most of the night, she knew how important it was for him to put it into actual words. For most people, a mood or train of thought or resolution wasn't real to them until they'd said it out loud or written it down, even though she'd often heard the same people insist that actions spoke louder than words. But Tim was making it real in words as well as actions.
He squeezed her hands, and her stomach fluttered even more. "Tim," she whispered, not really sure what else she was going to say. Her thought-to-speech wiring wasn't very reliable at the best of times, and right now she could only speak with her body. And her body was tired of waiting for the party to be over. She wanted him now.
She glanced around for even more private places. Maybe the Observatory above, which was deserted. No, she spotted Dick up there, talking to some woman. The booths with the privacy curtains presented another possibility; she was fairly sure some of the partygoers were already using some of the booths for that very purpose. That wouldn't work, either; they could still be spotted from the upper levels.
Cass was just about to lead him outside when she spotted some paparazzi with their cameras pointed right after them. As tempting as it would have been to give them the same glare that she'd given those two women earlier, she had enough presence of mind to realize that she would end up in newspapers and on tabloid covers looking like some sort of demon.
She spotted the dance floor. "Dance?" she finally asked Tim. It would be a way to work off her tension in a more publicly acceptable manner. Standing still was going to drive her nuts; she preferred to keep her body busy around him in some way.