Rogue can't imagine how having two suns versus two would affect a planet, but it's something that she's liable to find interesting, especially coming from him. And while she doesn't add anything more to the topic of space and sleep, his touch earns a soft noise from her as she sighs, relaxing a bit further.
Her eyes find his at the request, struck by the level of concern she finds in his searching gaze. At his questions, she nods. "Ah trust you," she clarifies softly. She also trusts Din, but she doesn't want to involve him in this, not when he might take on a burden of guilt. When Cobb continues, Rogue's only more certain that she made the correct choice. No need to put the child in her hypothetical cross hairs. The hand not on the glass reaches up to trace along the scruffy jawline as she nods to his solution, the short length of time it takes her to decide that surprising even her.
Even so, she feels the weight of guilt return with their proximity, with the unspoken fact that she's no longer willing to suffer those strings to be with him, but then he takes that guilt and her breath away in one fell swoop. She's almost dizzy from it, both his words and his actions taking her by surprise even if they really shouldn't. There's no need to touch him to know that Cobb's a good man who takes care of people.
Reaching away while keeping his gaze, she sets her glass on the table before stretching her legs carefully out of her shirt tent. Unlike him, she's not wearing any pants. In a series of fluid motions, she shifts to not only face him, but swings her leg over his hip, using a bit of flight to smoothly mind the exposed skin. She probably shouldn't be tempting fate, but she half settles on his lap as though that's more modest, free hand gently resting on his chest.
"Not wantin' ain't the issue sugah," she murmurs, voice emotional (and accent thicker for it) from how he's handling all this, handling her and her mess. Her attraction to him only grows. "You're bein' real amazin' 'bout this."
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 05:17 am (UTC)Her eyes find his at the request, struck by the level of concern she finds in his searching gaze. At his questions, she nods. "Ah trust you," she clarifies softly. She also trusts Din, but she doesn't want to involve him in this, not when he might take on a burden of guilt. When Cobb continues, Rogue's only more certain that she made the correct choice. No need to put the child in her hypothetical cross hairs. The hand not on the glass reaches up to trace along the scruffy jawline as she nods to his solution, the short length of time it takes her to decide that surprising even her.
Even so, she feels the weight of guilt return with their proximity, with the unspoken fact that she's no longer willing to suffer those strings to be with him, but then he takes that guilt and her breath away in one fell swoop. She's almost dizzy from it, both his words and his actions taking her by surprise even if they really shouldn't. There's no need to touch him to know that Cobb's a good man who takes care of people.
Reaching away while keeping his gaze, she sets her glass on the table before stretching her legs carefully out of her shirt tent. Unlike him, she's not wearing any pants. In a series of fluid motions, she shifts to not only face him, but swings her leg over his hip, using a bit of flight to smoothly mind the exposed skin. She probably shouldn't be tempting fate, but she half settles on his lap as though that's more modest, free hand gently resting on his chest.
"Not wantin' ain't the issue sugah," she murmurs, voice emotional (and accent thicker for it) from how he's handling all this, handling her and her mess. Her attraction to him only grows. "You're bein' real amazin' 'bout this."