[ emma meets his grin with narrowing eyes, balancing herself on one hand with her other elbow resting on his chest to point a semi-threatening finger in his face. ]
I am not a sore loser, Joshua Faraday.
[ (except she absolutely is.)
her seriousness is probably belied by the flush of face, the unruliness of her hair, and also the fact that she's still leaning over him like this. ]
And as I had not given up, clearly you hadn't yet won.
Actually, I'm pretty sure I'd won about, oh, a half-dozen times? Maybe more'n that?
[ Still a triumphant gleam in his eyes, still completely unbothered by the fact that she's lying atop him. Evidently he finds more satisfaction in gloating to the exclusion of all else. ]
Seems as though you just don't know when to leave well enough alone. It's endearing, kinda. Bless your stubborn, li'l heart.
[ He laughs, quirking an eyebrow at her in a way that clearly says, That's a load of bull. ]
If believin' that is what's gonna help you sleep at night, Miss Emma, then by all means. Sure. You let me keep the cards outta your grubby, unlucky hands.
[ she huffs at him, that "why are you such a pain" scowl in place. she reaches up to give his chin a forceful little squeeze, eyes narrowed as she looks down at him. ]
How did I find myself cursed with such an irksome man?
[ she's exasperated, of course, but she doesn't, and really has never, thought of him as a curse — despite the oddness of their circumstances. ]
[ He just laughs all the more even as she grabs his chin, and he brings up a hand to grasp at her wrist, to loosen the hold at least a little. ]
I think you misspoke. [ Because despite the phrasing, he doesn't take too much offense. By now, he knows they have something like a friendship settling between them; if she were truly huffed at him, it would've been with much more ice than this.
[ emma loosens her grip on his chin, but doesn't completely let go with that glare of hers still in place.
but it's true, really: if she was actually angry, she'd be moving immediately, shutting him out with a few chilly words, but she's stayed in place, still resting against him on the floor of her home (even if it's not the most comfortable area to sprawl). ]
And I think you expect far too much from that face of yours.
[ ...except she does think he's handsome — and that thought gives her pause when she realizes it, startles her even, but she knows that saying it aloud would be...odd.
and it would encourage him a whole lot more than she means to. ]
[ Evidently that glare of hers has done little to deter him. His grin takes on a crooked edge, eyes lighting in that way that can only signal some silly joke, some ridiculous spin of words: ]
It's made many a beautiful woman fall for me before.
[ He gestures vaguely, the wave of his hand seemingly encompassing the two of them and the floor. ]
Seems as though I can include you in their number.
[ His grin falls just a hair, barely noticeable except for how close they are to one another. The bright, teasing lilt to his voice stays just the same when he says, ]
Don't believe there's a man alive in Rose Creek that's earned that privilege.
[ After all, she did say there wasn't a single man who has caught her eye. He doubts anyone would live up to the shadow cast by the late Matthew Cullen.
But his mind shies away from that thought as soon as it materializes. He moves to prop himself up on an elbow, only to find that the weight of her is keeping him pressed down. He could easily dislodge her, and he doesn't doubt that she'll obligingly shift away once he truly sets to it, but instead, he freezes, blinks up at her.
As if he's only now appreciating just how damned close she is.
The fall of her red hair over her shoulder. The brightness of her eyes. The scant few inches between his mouth and hers – a distance he could easily close if his strength hadn't suddenly left him. His heart would have skipped a beat, if it could. The breath might've been knocked out of his lungs.
Maybe Emma Cullen hasn't swooned over him, but Josh Faraday apparently will damn well swoon over her.
The revelation is like a punch to the gut.
He clears his throat, gaze quickly darting to a point on the ceiling as he moves to prop himself up again. ]
I— [ He hesitates, at a loss for words, and gamely starts over. ] Oughta clean up these cards.
[ it's not until he props himself up again that emma's realizing for herself the closeness all over again, her lips inches from his, and it would be so simple, so easy to close the space between them—
but she can't manage it, can't bring herself to do it, no matter how easy it would be.
she realizes she stopped breathing for a moment, and forces herself to inhale, her eyes casting away from faraday. ]
Let me help.
[ since she's the one who tipped them over in the first place.
she shifts, but in order to sit up, she has to lean forward, just a touch more, and her nose nearly brushes against faraday's, nearly makes contact with the warm skin she's been able to touch now, the solidity that makes her forget that he's not alive, not fully human, but it hasn't mattered to her — not in a long time. ]
[ The brush of contact sends a flare of warmth through him, familiar and unfamiliar by turns. He and Emma have grown closer over the months, that much was true, and now that a touch from him wasn't liable to send her into a shivering, terrified fit, she was more liable to brush against him – accidentally, sometimes, or purposefully. A quick nudge or poke. A shove or a smack on his arm, if he said something particularly rude.
This is different. This is Emma Cullen atop him, hands pressed against his chest and lips so devastatingly close he can taste them – could, if only he had the nerve to press his luck. This is such a mocking echo of intimacy that he aches with it, feels something lurch behind his sternum like he's been knocked off-balance all over again.
And then she shifts away, and he his skin tingles with the loss. He licks his lips as he moves to push himself up further, awkwardly nudging the chair further away, where it had clattered down with them. ]
Sure you're alright? [ Though he asks it without looking at her, hands busying themselves with plucking up the cards from the wooden floor. ]
[ emma can't quite look at him either, too embarrassed by exactly how distracting that brush of skin had been, how damn...flustered she feels. emma cullen is not a woman who often finds herself set off-kilter by a man, not one to swoon and blush and fumble with her words, but that closeness to faraday is near impossible to ignore.
damn it.
when he speaks, she manages a nod, tucking her hair behind her ear and reaching for a few more cards. she still feels flushed, unsteady, but she's certainly not going to admit to that. ]
Doin' just fine.
[ she gathers up the cards she can reach in a small stack, offering them out to faraday — though she's almost forgotten about the single card still in her pocket. ]
Here. I didn't mean to have them spill all over like that.
Well, I can't say either of us meant to spill over like that, but here we are.
[ This, with a wry little smirk, and he collects his own card into a small packet. He reaches out for the packet she's collected, palm turned upward for her to place it in his hand. ]
[ Faraday notices the way she goes back to avoiding his touch, and for a wild second, he worries he's ruined this. A more reasonable voice tells him it's too soon to know, though it might be best for both of them to put up those physical barriers again. Faraday, in particular, is walking a terribly thin line, and these little thoughtless moments did little to help.
He forces a soft laugh, plucking the proffered card from her fingers. ]
The unlucky one. How could I forget?
[ Instead of returning it to the deck, he slips it into the breast pocket of his vest, gives it a fond little pat. ]
[ emma blinks a few times in surprise as he tucks away the card, then just shakes her head at him. ]
And what about the next time you go and leave them unattended? I'll just be ruinin' the luck of the whole deck, then, won't I?
[ because she'll practice whenever faraday's left the cards behind for a spell. while she certainly isn't taking him seriously at all, it lifts a layer of the uncertainty she feels to continue the back-and-forth of before — even if her mind is elsewhere now, continuing to dwell on that odd brush of contact moments ago.
she doesn't know how to mention it — doesn't even know if she should.
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no subject
I am not a sore loser, Joshua Faraday.
[ (except she absolutely is.)
her seriousness is probably belied by the flush of face, the unruliness of her hair, and also the fact that she's still leaning over him like this. ]
And as I had not given up, clearly you hadn't yet won.
[ because that's absolutely how it works. ]
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[ Still a triumphant gleam in his eyes, still completely unbothered by the fact that she's lying atop him. Evidently he finds more satisfaction in gloating to the exclusion of all else. ]
Seems as though you just don't know when to leave well enough alone. It's endearing, kinda. Bless your stubborn, li'l heart.
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Seems you just don't want to admit I could've gotten them outta your hands. Maybe I was lettin' you just keep them because I could.
[ ...well, not really, because he's got that height and those long arms and he's quick, but still.
competitive as always. ]
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If believin' that is what's gonna help you sleep at night, Miss Emma, then by all means. Sure. You let me keep the cards outta your grubby, unlucky hands.
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[ she huffs at him, that "why are you such a pain" scowl in place. she reaches up to give his chin a forceful little squeeze, eyes narrowed as she looks down at him. ]
How did I find myself cursed with such an irksome man?
[ she's exasperated, of course, but she doesn't, and really has never, thought of him as a curse — despite the oddness of their circumstances. ]
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I think you misspoke. [ Because despite the phrasing, he doesn't take too much offense. By now, he knows they have something like a friendship settling between them; if she were truly huffed at him, it would've been with much more ice than this.
He knows that firsthand, after all.
Which is why he grins now, winking up at her. ]
Think you meant to say handsome.
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but it's true, really: if she was actually angry, she'd be moving immediately, shutting him out with a few chilly words, but she's stayed in place, still resting against him on the floor of her home (even if it's not the most comfortable area to sprawl). ]
And I think you expect far too much from that face of yours.
[ ...except she does think he's handsome — and that thought gives her pause when she realizes it, startles her even, but she knows that saying it aloud would be...odd.
and it would encourage him a whole lot more than she means to. ]
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[ Evidently that glare of hers has done little to deter him. His grin takes on a crooked edge, eyes lighting in that way that can only signal some silly joke, some ridiculous spin of words: ]
It's made many a beautiful woman fall for me before.
[ He gestures vaguely, the wave of his hand seemingly encompassing the two of them and the floor. ]
Seems as though I can include you in their number.
[ And there it is. ]
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falling on the floor.
of course. obviously. that's all he meant by it. ]
Suppose at least I should be flattered you're countin' me among the beautiful women swoonin' after your charms.
[ but she's quick to add: ]
Not that I have. Swooned over you, is what I mean.
[ she'd like to be perfectly clear on that front. ]
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Don't believe there's a man alive in Rose Creek that's earned that privilege.
[ After all, she did say there wasn't a single man who has caught her eye. He doubts anyone would live up to the shadow cast by the late Matthew Cullen.
But his mind shies away from that thought as soon as it materializes. He moves to prop himself up on an elbow, only to find that the weight of her is keeping him pressed down. He could easily dislodge her, and he doesn't doubt that she'll obligingly shift away once he truly sets to it, but instead, he freezes, blinks up at her.
As if he's only now appreciating just how damned close she is.
The fall of her red hair over her shoulder. The brightness of her eyes. The scant few inches between his mouth and hers – a distance he could easily close if his strength hadn't suddenly left him. His heart would have skipped a beat, if it could. The breath might've been knocked out of his lungs.
Maybe Emma Cullen hasn't swooned over him, but Josh Faraday apparently will damn well swoon over her.
The revelation is like a punch to the gut.
He clears his throat, gaze quickly darting to a point on the ceiling as he moves to prop himself up again. ]
I— [ He hesitates, at a loss for words, and gamely starts over. ] Oughta clean up these cards.
no subject
but she can't manage it, can't bring herself to do it, no matter how easy it would be.
she realizes she stopped breathing for a moment, and forces herself to inhale, her eyes casting away from faraday. ]
Let me help.
[ since she's the one who tipped them over in the first place.
she shifts, but in order to sit up, she has to lean forward, just a touch more, and her nose nearly brushes against faraday's, nearly makes contact with the warm skin she's been able to touch now, the solidity that makes her forget that he's not alive, not fully human, but it hasn't mattered to her — not in a long time. ]
no subject
This is different. This is Emma Cullen atop him, hands pressed against his chest and lips so devastatingly close he can taste them – could, if only he had the nerve to press his luck. This is such a mocking echo of intimacy that he aches with it, feels something lurch behind his sternum like he's been knocked off-balance all over again.
And then she shifts away, and he his skin tingles with the loss. He licks his lips as he moves to push himself up further, awkwardly nudging the chair further away, where it had clattered down with them. ]
Sure you're alright? [ Though he asks it without looking at her, hands busying themselves with plucking up the cards from the wooden floor. ]
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damn it.
when he speaks, she manages a nod, tucking her hair behind her ear and reaching for a few more cards. she still feels flushed, unsteady, but she's certainly not going to admit to that. ]
Doin' just fine.
[ she gathers up the cards she can reach in a small stack, offering them out to faraday — though she's almost forgotten about the single card still in her pocket. ]
Here. I didn't mean to have them spill all over like that.
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[ This, with a wry little smirk, and he collects his own card into a small packet. He reaches out for the packet she's collected, palm turned upward for her to place it in his hand. ]
Did we get all of 'em?
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I'd say we— oh.
[ she stops, then reaches into her pocket to produce the previously confiscated card. ]
Last one.
[ she manages a faint ghost of a smile as she holds the card out to him. ]
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He forces a soft laugh, plucking the proffered card from her fingers. ]
The unlucky one. How could I forget?
[ Instead of returning it to the deck, he slips it into the breast pocket of his vest, gives it a fond little pat. ]
Few days there ought to undo the damage.
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And what about the next time you go and leave them unattended? I'll just be ruinin' the luck of the whole deck, then, won't I?
[ because she'll practice whenever faraday's left the cards behind for a spell. while she certainly isn't taking him seriously at all, it lifts a layer of the uncertainty she feels to continue the back-and-forth of before — even if her mind is elsewhere now, continuing to dwell on that odd brush of contact moments ago.
she doesn't know how to mention it — doesn't even know if she should.
which means she probably won't. ]
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I'm gonna have to filch a second deck, at this rate.
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[ she says it with a quirk of her lips, finally pushing herself up from the floor to dust off her dress. ]
I'll just have to make sure I touch your second one too, then.
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Emma Cullen, you are a menace. You might have the rest of the town fooled, but I see right through you.
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[ she adopts an innocent air, taking on some of that primness faraday had tried for before. ]
I'd think you've been quite misled — or you're confusin' me for yourself, menace that you are.
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Menace. [ he repeats it with feeling. ] Lord help Rose Creek.
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[ she turns to right the chair, then glances over her shoulder at him. ]
Lord help you, Joshua Faraday.