[ act though it may have been, emma's going to be impossibly humiliated when she has a chance to think about what she and faraday had done; she shouldn't be letting it affect her so much, shouldn't be so swept away, but she feels like her mind has just gone blank, until the only thing she's focusing on is faraday and his lips and the heat of his hands, and—
—and then they're interrupted just like she expected them to be.
however, what she didn't expect was how mortified she feels when she sees the two guards watching them. this had been the entire purpose of kissing faraday in the first place, to be walked in on and pass off their presence as a pair of overeager lovers, but— god, she doesn't even want to think about how overeager she'd really been.
with color high in her cheeks, she's quick to slip off of the table with her hand in faraday's, ducking her head and following faraday out of the room.
well, it had worked perfectly, that's for sure; there hadn't been any questions, they hadn't been detained, and no one seemed to suspect a thing (if the near-guffawing guard was any indication), but her body is still thrumming with, god, whatever that had been, and she absolutely hates how flushed she feels, her heart still pounding, breath unsteady.
anxiety. just anxiety. that's all it could have been.
she makes it down the hall with faraday, not quite back to the ballroom, before she finally looks up at him. there certainly is lipstick smeared across his mouth, and she's sure it's even worse on her own face, and his hair is mussed all to hell, his shirt rumpled with partially exposed skin, and—
oh, dear god.
there's a few harsh, red marks on his shoulder, leading down his chest near his clavicle, and those sure are tracks from her nails. she reaches up to touch her own neck in a moment of sudden uncertainty, her eyes narrowing slightly at faraday. ]
Did you mark me anywhere?
[ this is an important question, and she decides not to mention the marks she can see on him. ]
no subject
—and then they're interrupted just like she expected them to be.
however, what she didn't expect was how mortified she feels when she sees the two guards watching them. this had been the entire purpose of kissing faraday in the first place, to be walked in on and pass off their presence as a pair of overeager lovers, but— god, she doesn't even want to think about how overeager she'd really been.
with color high in her cheeks, she's quick to slip off of the table with her hand in faraday's, ducking her head and following faraday out of the room.
well, it had worked perfectly, that's for sure; there hadn't been any questions, they hadn't been detained, and no one seemed to suspect a thing (if the near-guffawing guard was any indication), but her body is still thrumming with, god, whatever that had been, and she absolutely hates how flushed she feels, her heart still pounding, breath unsteady.
anxiety. just anxiety. that's all it could have been.
she makes it down the hall with faraday, not quite back to the ballroom, before she finally looks up at him. there certainly is lipstick smeared across his mouth, and she's sure it's even worse on her own face, and his hair is mussed all to hell, his shirt rumpled with partially exposed skin, and—
oh, dear god.
there's a few harsh, red marks on his shoulder, leading down his chest near his clavicle, and those sure are tracks from her nails. she reaches up to touch her own neck in a moment of sudden uncertainty, her eyes narrowing slightly at faraday. ]
Did you mark me anywhere?
[ this is an important question, and she decides not to mention the marks she can see on him. ]