[ where yeko remains lively, bob has grown smaller, slacker, quieter. already the kind of guy who hangs back and observes, more lost than ever with his loved ones in jeopardy (and adrian gone).
when yeko sits, bob scoots up the bed, somewhere between nervous and polite. yeko is someone he likes, certainly, but he doesn’t trust her — especially after embry revealed she was buying votes. the whole trial stuff is bullshit though, so he means it, when he says he’s withholding judgment. ]
I don’t think so.
[ but he edges back towards her, adjusting to sit cross-legged. his dark blue eyes flit from her flushed cheeks to her small hands. ]
[something like sympathy pangs inside of her, a split-second of emotion washing over her features, but not when she reaches for his hands to hold them out in front of him, palms up. she'll go easy on him for the first round.
her own hands over above his own. she's a ball of playful energy, coy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and hips wriggling.]
Okay– you try and hit my hand before I pull away. If you miss, it's my turn. Go on, try and slap me.
[this might be her own way of trying to take him away from the grief, distracting with something as simple as the competitive stinging pain of a smack meant to be avoided. she's watching him carefully, maroon eyes studying his features. he's sad here, terribly so. her smile wavers then, but she waits patiently for his next move and continues on her original path of explaining the real game they've been forced into.]
I'm playing how the Shepherd doesn't want me to play. I have a few weaknesses, [his arm muscles twitch and she pulls a hand away too quickly, hesitant on inching it back over his.] ah, you almost got me! One of them is my emotions. I get very angry, but I think my accusation was deserved. We have a choice to use the game how we want, and I'm doing that. If we combined our votes for the Shepherd, I think we would have a very different outcome, don't you?
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when yeko sits, bob scoots up the bed, somewhere between nervous and polite. yeko is someone he likes, certainly, but he doesn’t trust her — especially after embry revealed she was buying votes. the whole trial stuff is bullshit though, so he means it, when he says he’s withholding judgment. ]
I don’t think so.
[ but he edges back towards her, adjusting to sit cross-legged. his dark blue eyes flit from her flushed cheeks to her small hands. ]
Explain it to me?
no subject
her own hands over above his own. she's a ball of playful energy, coy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and hips wriggling.]
Okay– you try and hit my hand before I pull away. If you miss, it's my turn. Go on, try and slap me.
[this might be her own way of trying to take him away from the grief, distracting with something as simple as the competitive stinging pain of a smack meant to be avoided. she's watching him carefully, maroon eyes studying his features. he's sad here, terribly so. her smile wavers then, but she waits patiently for his next move and continues on her original path of explaining the real game they've been forced into.]
I'm playing how the Shepherd doesn't want me to play. I have a few weaknesses, [his arm muscles twitch and she pulls a hand away too quickly, hesitant on inching it back over his.] ah, you almost got me! One of them is my emotions. I get very angry, but I think my accusation was deserved. We have a choice to use the game how we want, and I'm doing that. If we combined our votes for the Shepherd, I think we would have a very different outcome, don't you?