❛ Are you flirting with me? ❜
are you flirting with me? the question strikes her as strange. she was, in fact flirting with him… she just hadn’t expected for him to ask so directly. most just played along with her pretty smiles, the way she would twist her hair around her finger. they would play along, or they would ignore her.
" why would you think that?“ she speaks as though she is not aware of her actions, an articial sweetness that teetered on the edge of playful. it’s obvious that she knows precisely what she had been doing. batting her eyelashes, meticulously picking & choosing the perfect words to say… but she pretends she doesn’t. it was a game she had played time & time again…. except now, the game wasn’t so much a game as much as it was an excuse. a reason to direct her attention somewhere that wasn’t the past. she had never been one to face the reality of a situation. the consuming knowledge of what they had faced, of what she had survived … so she would play her game & hope he played along. teeth sink into her bottom lip & she glances down. it easier to think about other things. about … distractions.
a distraction. he could be a distraction… a distraction that understood, a distraction that knew more than any what she had faced & what they had survived. one who wouldn’t think she was crazy… or was just as crazy as she was. he could be a distraction with pretty eyes, nice hair — she pauses, halting her thoughts for the time being. she watches him for a moment, wanting a response. wanting a reaction.
QUESTION MEME! — accepting!