Laughter peters out into the realization that she's spreadeagled over a half-dressed, wounded man.
Angel. Half-dressed, wounded angel.
For a breath Murphy's tempted to do something very, very stupid. A paralytic tingle of nerves washes through her. She's human. She's lonely and tired and only human, and having someone this close punches a little ache into her gut.
He's cute. Kind, in some warped way she doesn't really want to think about, and best of all, fleeting. Inconstant. Not the kind of person to expect things from her, considerations or compromises. The cold, honest corner of her mind hisses And then what? How would she judge herself if it went that far? Would he even let it? How would he judge her?
Murphy draws back, putting on a smile and patting the mashed cake flat against Gabriel's chest. "I'm going to get a washcloth."
She shifts, trying to extricate herself without touching him. She doesn't want to make his wounds worse.
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Date: 2010-01-13 09:51 pm (UTC)Angel. Half-dressed, wounded angel.
For a breath Murphy's tempted to do something very, very stupid. A paralytic tingle of nerves washes through her. She's human. She's lonely and tired and only human, and having someone this close punches a little ache into her gut.
He's cute. Kind, in some warped way she doesn't really want to think about, and best of all, fleeting. Inconstant. Not the kind of person to expect things from her, considerations or compromises. The cold, honest corner of her mind hisses And then what? How would she judge herself if it went that far? Would he even let it? How would he judge her?
Murphy draws back, putting on a smile and patting the mashed cake flat against Gabriel's chest. "I'm going to get a washcloth."
She shifts, trying to extricate herself without touching him. She doesn't want to make his wounds worse.