Hannah - E, B, V
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Hannah took her lunch inside the shed to get out of the sun, tossing her gear in a pile just behind the creaking door and retreating toward the cooler shadows. Under the breezing hum from an electric fan, Hannah sat with her lunch sack in her lap and opened it to withdraw food, a canteen, and a magazine which she unrolled in the narrow column of light coming through the door.
She opened it to a folded page, flipping past all of the pictures of nude bodies in various poses to a story that she had marked based on its opening lines. Not the “I never thought something like this would happen to me,” part, but the explicit details with which everything was described, the narrator promising unexpected twists and sensual turns.
About halfway through the story, however, Hannah closed the magazine, rolled it up, and slapped it against her palm. “Well, that ain’t possible. That would just hurt, and that ain’t very...” She stared at the darkness, blinked and frowned. She put the magazine away and pulled out her datachron to run an extranet search for “Nipple clamps”.
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
“Eh, whatchu lookin at?”
“Not a thing.” Hannah sat up in the seat of the tractor, blinking down and waking from her daze.
Linnea set one leg on the wheel of the tractor and leaned to rest her crossed arms on her calves. “You was starin’ at me, miss.”
Hannah’s eyes fell down to Linnea’s calf, and she struggled to lift them only for her gaze to land on the woman’s muscled thigh. “I wasn’t. Just sun-addled’s all.” Needing to get her attention somewhere else, Hannah abruptly stood and threw off her jacket. In just her undershirt, Hannah lifted her bare arms and flexed them above her shoulders. “Hey, whaddya think? Been lifting Neirin’s weights for a couple weeks now.”
Linnea’s laugh cut the air. “Oh, lil’ girl. You can get muscles on those sticks a yours but then they’ll just be sticks with bumps on ‘em.”
“Hm.” Hannah dropped her head, looking at the hood of the tractor. Then she dropped her arms, crossed them in front of her. She stiffened the muscles and watched them move under her skin.
“Oh, miss.” Linnea called. “Don’t get pouty on my now. I didn’t mean nothin.”
Pressing her hair down in futile gesture, Hanna grabbed her jacket and tossed it over her shoulders. She dropped back into the tractor’s seat. “I’m gonna go put this tractor away. Move your foot now.”
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Neirin walked past Hannah’s locked bedroom door for the fifth time that night, just ambling around the house as he did in the evenings. This time, he stopped and squinted at the door. He edged up to it and put his ear to it, a suspicious look on his face. Finally, he knocked on it. “Hey, lil’ sis?”
Hannah barked in immediate irritation, “What!?”
Flinching back, Neirin quirked his features. He lifted his voice so he could be heard through the door more clearly. “Nothin’ I guess. You been in there all night quiet as the grave! You sick or somethin?”
“I’m fine! Lemme lone!”
“Okay, okay.” Neirin shook his head and turned away. “Enjoy your nap or whatever.”
As his footsteps faded down the hallway, the perfect silence surrounding Hannah’s room was restored.