[ Misreading his footsteps toward the fire, the muscles in her thighs tense in preparation to slide over and create a space for him, but he never comes more than a foot closer. The smile slips off of her face, replaced by a pit of disappointment that leaves her looking a bit like a kicked puppy.
Well, if that's what he wants. She had thought his inclination toward close proximity would last beyond a handful of hours, but that clearly isn't the case. It's her fault for misinterpreting, she tells herself. She doesn't have a right to wallow. ]
Do you want to sit with me?
[ This way, he has a say in where he sits without feeling obligated. This way, she doesn't have to find a way to ask why he's so distant. ]
no subject
Well, if that's what he wants. She had thought his inclination toward close proximity would last beyond a handful of hours, but that clearly isn't the case. It's her fault for misinterpreting, she tells herself. She doesn't have a right to wallow. ]
Do you want to sit with me?
[ This way, he has a say in where he sits without feeling obligated. This way, she doesn't have to find a way to ask why he's so distant. ]