[The first gestures are slow, stepping to the side, the warm hand on her side, sliding down her hip to find the first clasp. Each well in sight and easily able to pull away from should she wish.
Instead, he's taking his own time, enjoying how she fills the uniform, the spill of her hair, unregulation, down her back. A juxtaposition of a warrior's body and a civilian's leisure. Cordelia was different, softer around the edges, but sharper in the eyes, like she was seeing into you.
Allison was no less striking in her own ways, though.
With a deft twist, he pulls the first clasp loose, fingers sliding between the folds of fabric to find the next.]
no subject
Instead, he's taking his own time, enjoying how she fills the uniform, the spill of her hair, unregulation, down her back. A juxtaposition of a warrior's body and a civilian's leisure. Cordelia was different, softer around the edges, but sharper in the eyes, like she was seeing into you.
Allison was no less striking in her own ways, though.
With a deft twist, he pulls the first clasp loose, fingers sliding between the folds of fabric to find the next.]