[ 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.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
[ 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?
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
I'm gonna have to filch a second deck, at this rate.
no subject
[ 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.
no subject
Emma Cullen, you are a menace. You might have the rest of the town fooled, but I see right through you.
no subject
[ 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.
no subject
Menace. [ he repeats it with feeling. ] Lord help Rose Creek.
no subject
[ she turns to right the chair, then glances over her shoulder at him. ]
Lord help you, Joshua Faraday.