[ bellamy's hands rest on her hips, fingers digging into the bone in an attempt to keep her still on his lap. half expecting her to move back to his waist, he isn't surprised to find she doesn't. ]
[ watching her pull her shirt over her head, bellamy lets his eyes move down the length of her before he returns his gaze to hers. shifting then, bellamy pushes himself onto his elbows, looking up at her from that position. ] That's me. Thoughtful. [ he isn't quite committed to it, though, distracted with how he moves to circle his hands around her waist, pulling himself upward to slide his palms to her back. ]
[ purposefully, he places his hand on the small of her back, where he imagines her scar to be. even though he's said it over and over, always asking, he finds himself repeating quietly once more, ] Does it hurt?
no subject
[ watching her pull her shirt over her head, bellamy lets his eyes move down the length of her before he returns his gaze to hers. shifting then, bellamy pushes himself onto his elbows, looking up at her from that position. ] That's me. Thoughtful. [ he isn't quite committed to it, though, distracted with how he moves to circle his hands around her waist, pulling himself upward to slide his palms to her back. ]
[ purposefully, he places his hand on the small of her back, where he imagines her scar to be. even though he's said it over and over, always asking, he finds himself repeating quietly once more, ] Does it hurt?