I'd be a very pretty but very stupid woman, [ Betina says, her voice a lulling singsong, ] To think of robbing you of anything. [ A beat and Betina's eyes crinkle at the edges knowingly. She's tried in the past, if only to inspire his ire. Her body still bears proof of it, things she wouldn't let the Novotny boy fix up. ] Especially pleasure.
[ Her hand comes up over the top of his as if to steady the lighter's flame despite it being steady already. Any excuse to touch him, really, to get her skin on his so that her particular brand of compulsion can readily take. He'll feel good for a moment, but that feeling — like everything else in this world — will pass. And when it does what remains in its place will be terrible, indeed.
(It's not really necessary for her to goad him, she encourages him enough already. But Betina is bright and clever and has never once enjoyed doing things by halves.)
She watches him as she inhales off the end of her cigarette, the flame dancing in her eyes, their wetness catching the light. The tobacco catches but she doesn't move away, just puckers her lips around the filter to exhale smoke between them a moment later. ]
no subject
[ Her hand comes up over the top of his as if to steady the lighter's flame despite it being steady already. Any excuse to touch him, really, to get her skin on his so that her particular brand of compulsion can readily take. He'll feel good for a moment, but that feeling — like everything else in this world — will pass. And when it does what remains in its place will be terrible, indeed.
(It's not really necessary for her to goad him, she encourages him enough already. But Betina is bright and clever and has never once enjoyed doing things by halves.)
She watches him as she inhales off the end of her cigarette, the flame dancing in her eyes, their wetness catching the light. The tobacco catches but she doesn't move away, just puckers her lips around the filter to exhale smoke between them a moment later. ]