"You don't seem like the person to have nefarious motivations," she admits with a tired smile. That and it's his demise if he ever tries to prove her wrong. Even with a power dampener, Rogue knows she can take care of herself. But, she doesn't think she's wrong to trust Cobb, to lean into him for this comfort and allow him to take responsibility of such power over her.
The hand on his chest smooths up to his shoulder, settling so that her her fingers could curl over the collar of his shirt. And the more time she spends in his company, intimately like this or otherwise, the more she's tempted to take the risk and kiss him, but the kind of kiss she wants with the chemistry that they have? Rogue knows it'll be difficult to meter. Her other hand moves to mirror the first, fingers curling under the collar of fabric.
"Mn. Ah don't think there's a specific term for that." There's a flicker of that flirtation, stemming from their chemistry. It's like a weak signal fighting through the weight of her emotional exhaustion, but it's there. She's definitely let her thoughts wander to a less clothed version of the man beneath her, but she's keeping that to herself for the moment. "But if it helps, ah don't got any tattoos."
It's not a shampoo commercial, but when he pulls her hair free, habit has her giving her mess of curls a bit of a shake so that they can fall naturally wherever they wish. It makes a bit of a mess, several locks falling to frame her face, shrouding her from some of the apartment's light. At his question, she both nods and tugs up the collar of his shirt, just enough to cover his mouth and nose, just in case. All the while she searches his gaze for his reaction, for permission.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2021-02-21 04:40 pm (UTC)The hand on his chest smooths up to his shoulder, settling so that her her fingers could curl over the collar of his shirt. And the more time she spends in his company, intimately like this or otherwise, the more she's tempted to take the risk and kiss him, but the kind of kiss she wants with the chemistry that they have? Rogue knows it'll be difficult to meter. Her other hand moves to mirror the first, fingers curling under the collar of fabric.
"Mn. Ah don't think there's a specific term for that." There's a flicker of that flirtation, stemming from their chemistry. It's like a weak signal fighting through the weight of her emotional exhaustion, but it's there. She's definitely let her thoughts wander to a less clothed version of the man beneath her, but she's keeping that to herself for the moment. "But if it helps, ah don't got any tattoos."
It's not a shampoo commercial, but when he pulls her hair free, habit has her giving her mess of curls a bit of a shake so that they can fall naturally wherever they wish. It makes a bit of a mess, several locks falling to frame her face, shrouding her from some of the apartment's light. At his question, she both nods and tugs up the collar of his shirt, just enough to cover his mouth and nose, just in case. All the while she searches his gaze for his reaction, for permission.