[ bellamy remains still, knowing that that will be tested the moment she clues in he has no plans to remove himself of his clothes. muscles tensing, he tries not to arch his back when she pulls his shirt up his torso, and he does his best not to fidget beneath her ministrations, either. ]
[ looking at her, his smug smile disappears, something softer remaining in its wake. the way his arms are folded beneath his head slacken, as though he's about to pull them free from being a pillow. ]
And if I think I'm hot shit? [ his voice doesn't hold the right amount of challenge in it. he likes to poke the bear at times, but he's since dropped his stick. they both know what he thinks of himself, and any other answer he may have given her would've brought the mood down. ]
[ instead, his voice remains low, ] Have you got a plan on how to deal with it inside that head of yours?
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[ looking at her, his smug smile disappears, something softer remaining in its wake. the way his arms are folded beneath his head slacken, as though he's about to pull them free from being a pillow. ]
And if I think I'm hot shit? [ his voice doesn't hold the right amount of challenge in it. he likes to poke the bear at times, but he's since dropped his stick. they both know what he thinks of himself, and any other answer he may have given her would've brought the mood down. ]
[ instead, his voice remains low, ] Have you got a plan on how to deal with it inside that head of yours?