He knows a woman’s touch against his shoulder. (Not often, and never without pay, but that isn’t the point here.) (Never mind also that this woman doesn’t fuck him, she has made that clear and he has made his knowledge of that fact clear.) Knows the meaning of that firm press - well, why else would she dare to enter this room?- as if she doesn’t find him so thoroughly repulsive after all, or as if his unsightliness doesn’t matter.
Maybe that’s it. Maybe she doesn’t care what she sees. Maybe that comes of living on a farm, maybe surviving day after day of cows and pigs and horse shit means taking what you can if you need a quick poke.
He’s looking at her still. Sort of looking at her still, through a haze of swimming impressions. ]
Mm, ‘reading.’
Clever girl, aren’t you?
[ He should… put his glass down. Can’t fuck her with a glass in his hand. Probably. Too bad for her her husband-not-husband’s so uncoordinated right now, no fucking with a glass for her.
He’s moving to set the glass down when he realizes oh, oh, there’s still wine in the glass, he should take care of that wine, make certain it doesn’t slip away. So. He drinks it; there it goes. Well done, Treavor. Well done. ]
no subject
A.
Moment.
He knows a woman’s touch against his shoulder. (Not often, and never without pay, but that isn’t the point here.) (Never mind also that this woman doesn’t fuck him, she has made that clear and he has made his knowledge of that fact clear.) Knows the meaning of that firm press - well, why else would she dare to enter this room?- as if she doesn’t find him so thoroughly repulsive after all, or as if his unsightliness doesn’t matter.
Maybe that’s it. Maybe she doesn’t care what she sees. Maybe that comes of living on a farm, maybe surviving day after day of cows and pigs and horse shit means taking what you can if you need a quick poke.
He’s looking at her still. Sort of looking at her still, through a haze of swimming impressions. ]
Mm, ‘reading.’
Clever girl, aren’t you?
[ He should… put his glass down. Can’t fuck her with a glass in his hand. Probably. Too bad for her her husband-not-husband’s so uncoordinated right now, no fucking with a glass for her.
He’s moving to set the glass down when he realizes oh, oh, there’s still wine in the glass, he should take care of that wine, make certain it doesn’t slip away. So. He drinks it; there it goes. Well done, Treavor. Well done. ]
'Reading.'