[ if the intent behind the compliment was to shut her up, it worked. yelena thought about making a comment on his hair or his choice of sleepwear because she always has something to say, doesn't she? (don't guys sleep naked? or shirtless? except that would probably make her come off as a pervert when it's a genuine question!) but no. she does not even let out a peep as he lugs himself over to her.
part of it is due to her brain trying to process that what he said was a thing that happened at all, and the other part is yelena trying not to make a big deal out of them being so close. it conjures up a strange sensation in her chest; it's not something she feels often, but it's not so foreign to her either that she doesn't know what it is. she does.
he's looking— or rather, examining her and they're bumping knees — not in the way yelena would've wanted – clothes and all (hers a little more ripped than his) and he hasn't even touched her but somehow it is enough to make her feel all the warmth rush to her cheeks. ]
Okay—
[ she's Undressed before men before. beyond her tighty whities, even! she looks at him and has to pretend that the way he's looking at her has no effect on her whatsoever, but she's probably doing a shit job at it right now because all she can think of is how his eyes remind her of the sea, of the beach that melina and alexei took her and natasha to when they were children.
she hates that there's a stutter in her movements, when there normally wouldn't be any, as she frees that fresh wound from the sweet pressure of the palm of her hand. yelena straightens up some and pulls her shirt up until it's rolled up to just above her chest. which is, thankfully, covered by a black sports bra. aside from the cut, there are some bruises on her stomach, by her hipbone. ]
Sorry about your chair. [ that she's most likely bleeding onto, now. ] I'll get you a new one. Maybe a red one.
SO I GOT A LITTLE CARRIED AWAY .....
part of it is due to her brain trying to process that what he said was a thing that happened at all, and the other part is yelena trying not to make a big deal out of them being so close. it conjures up a strange sensation in her chest; it's not something she feels often, but it's not so foreign to her either that she doesn't know what it is. she does.
he's looking— or rather, examining her and they're bumping knees — not in the way yelena would've wanted – clothes and all (hers a little more ripped than his) and he hasn't even touched her but somehow it is enough to make her feel all the warmth rush to her cheeks. ]
Okay—
[ she's Undressed before men before. beyond her tighty whities, even! she looks at him and has to pretend that the way he's looking at her has no effect on her whatsoever, but she's probably doing a shit job at it right now because all she can think of is how his eyes remind her of the sea, of the beach that melina and alexei took her and natasha to when they were children.
she hates that there's a stutter in her movements, when there normally wouldn't be any, as she frees that fresh wound from the sweet pressure of the palm of her hand. yelena straightens up some and pulls her shirt up until it's rolled up to just above her chest. which is, thankfully, covered by a black sports bra. aside from the cut, there are some bruises on her stomach, by her hipbone. ]
Sorry about your chair. [ that she's most likely bleeding onto, now. ] I'll get you a new one. Maybe a red one.