i wasn’t looking for this. ( @packruled )
“ is this not what every man wants, though? ”
Cant of her head to the side, accusing raise of her brow – Moira knows men, and in her long, long experience with them, she has learned just how they think and act. A sad notion, she misses the naivety she lived with when she was alive, however, she also muses that this is the only way to survive her current existence – shed her innocence like a snake’s skin.
She’s testing him, she wonders if he notices – she’s trying to see just how much like the other men he can be, because Moira has already decided she’s determined to get him to dig up her corpse from underneath that gazebo, and if it means she will have to get on her knees for him, she will. But then, something changes, he voices his discomfort out loud, and Moira can tell, through hitched breathing and heated skin, that he’s honest.
It bemuses her, as it does the fact that his skin feels like it’s on fire to her touch – it doesn’t really feel entirely human.
She’ll shift on his lap, stocking- clad legs cling to each of his sides, and she waits for him to react – give in, push her away, by now, she’s almost expectant, “ why are you really here, Mr. Jones? ”