[ his voice is soft and serious, watching her with all the gravity of a heart attack. and then, all it took for me to stop crying was a hug or a kiss, she says, and there feels like there's some other piece of flirtation that that older, younger version of himself could've gone for: jockeying for a joke, a hitch of an eyebrow, an insinuation. there would be some kind of opportunity here. almost. his glacier-blue eyes drift downward to the turn of yelena's cheek, the playful twist of her mouth. her lips. his gaze lingers there for a moment.
but james isn't that man anymore, and so instead he carefully disentangles himself from her and sits up in the bed, the tangled sheets pooling around his pj pants. he props his left arm against his knee and the hem of his shirt slides upwards when he leans forward, the small of his back exposed for a second. it doesn't seem like he's actually trying to get away from her, though, because he reaches out with the arm that had just been wrapped around her, and instead absentmindedly brushes some of yelena's hair out of her face, like an apology for mussing it.
(at least it's not tucking her hair behind her ear. he has certain incredibly rusty and stereotypical moves, but they're not coming out just yet, okay.) ]
You wanna have breakfast? I don't have a lot in the fridge, but we could cobble something together. Or grab some sandwiches at the bodega or something. I gotta do laundry at some point, but like I said, there's nothing else until Sam in the afternoon.
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[ his voice is soft and serious, watching her with all the gravity of a heart attack. and then, all it took for me to stop crying was a hug or a kiss, she says, and there feels like there's some other piece of flirtation that that older, younger version of himself could've gone for: jockeying for a joke, a hitch of an eyebrow, an insinuation. there would be some kind of opportunity here. almost. his glacier-blue eyes drift downward to the turn of yelena's cheek, the playful twist of her mouth. her lips. his gaze lingers there for a moment.
but james isn't that man anymore, and so instead he carefully disentangles himself from her and sits up in the bed, the tangled sheets pooling around his pj pants. he props his left arm against his knee and the hem of his shirt slides upwards when he leans forward, the small of his back exposed for a second. it doesn't seem like he's actually trying to get away from her, though, because he reaches out with the arm that had just been wrapped around her, and instead absentmindedly brushes some of yelena's hair out of her face, like an apology for mussing it.
(at least it's not tucking her hair behind her ear. he has certain incredibly rusty and stereotypical moves, but they're not coming out just yet, okay.) ]
You wanna have breakfast? I don't have a lot in the fridge, but we could cobble something together. Or grab some sandwiches at the bodega or something. I gotta do laundry at some point, but like I said, there's nothing else until Sam in the afternoon.
[ please have breakfast with him. ]