@highkingborn gets a Brakebills babies starter just because
there's music all around them, yet another party in full blast at the Physical Kids' Cottage;
but the beat Margo is swaying to, manicured hands settled on the other's forearms loosely, is something else entirely, rhythm only the two of them are privy to ( push and pull achingly familiar );
❝ there's something on your mind, ❞ giggles fade away as dark eyes consider the distant look in Eliot's eyes, and the observation is spoken in a tone uncharacteristically soft – for his ears only – as one hand trails up his arm to find its place at the back of his neck, thumb stroking leisurely ( soothing him into relaxation ), body swaying forward, a little bit more into his space ( the magnetic pull between them manifesting in all its glory or just a further attempt to coax him into spilling the beans, no one would hear ), in the same motion, ❝ care to share? ❞
then painted lips pursue, a good-natured grin hiding behind the facade of a perfect pout:
❝ or I might get cross with you, all the time spent on putting this outfit together, and you are yet to voice your compliment opinion. ❞