Your Move
"Do you want to makeout?"
The oxygen was swept from his lungs in an instant. Everything stopped, even time itself. Frozen on the spot, the young man's mind became completely blank - all expect for the question just uttered to him. Uttered so suddenly, almost meekly, for a moment he wondered if he was imagining it was even spoken at all. Yet one look at the woman that sat on the edge of his bed subverted any uncertainty he had.
It was the subtleties in her expression that gave it away. It a long time for him to be able to notice them, and they aided him greatly now. The slightest furrow of her dark brows; the uncertainty and anxiety in her eyes; the way her teeth faintly worried her bottom lip. He focused a little too hard on that last part. Her lips were plump - a dusty pink color. He must have stared for too long for the way her hands began to fiddle with the fabric of her skirt. When he lifted his gaze to meet her eye, she quickly glanced away, obviously nervous.
It would be rather foolish to let her assume he rejected such a bold advance. She rarely made any of her own... Such a daring question surely took a lot of courage. The young man flexed his fingers, balling his hands into fists and then fanning them back out - once, twice, three times, to calm his blazing nerves. His heart was beating so fast, threatening to hammer out of his chest. His cheeks burned, likely a bright red now, much like the lady before him.
He couldn't keep her in suspense. Evelia deserved an answer.
What would Lazaro do?
Lazaro belongs to @the-trinket-witch