[It's only the fact that she does hear him coming, that she knows it's Rohan Kishibe approaching, that prevents him from winding up a heap of bruised limbs on the floor after his hands touch her shoulders. She didn't get to be where she is now by letting people get the drop on her, much less by letting people get close enough to actually put their hands on her.
But physicality is just another dimension of the nebulous connection she has with Rohan. They push each other around like it's another form of conversation. They take liberties like they're daring each other to interject or protest. The first one to stop is the one that implicitly loses, and they've never actually laid out those rules, but they're both familiar with them anyway.
She's in the kitchen making herself a cup of coffee when he finds her. It's old habit to always put what she drinks in takeaway cups with lids, even when she's just in someone else's house; it's reflex to make it that much harder to slip something into what she drinks, even if she doesn't run any risk of that here.
Now, it also has the benefit of keeping the beverage from splashing when he turns her, initiating another round of their game. He's close enough, leaving little enough space between them, that her implication is deliberately insulting in the way she slowly raises her cup and sips at it before answering him.]
And that's my fault?
[He's talented, with those nimble long-fingered hands of his. It's hard not to feel a thrill when they're touching her.]
no subject
But physicality is just another dimension of the nebulous connection she has with Rohan. They push each other around like it's another form of conversation. They take liberties like they're daring each other to interject or protest. The first one to stop is the one that implicitly loses, and they've never actually laid out those rules, but they're both familiar with them anyway.
She's in the kitchen making herself a cup of coffee when he finds her. It's old habit to always put what she drinks in takeaway cups with lids, even when she's just in someone else's house; it's reflex to make it that much harder to slip something into what she drinks, even if she doesn't run any risk of that here.
Now, it also has the benefit of keeping the beverage from splashing when he turns her, initiating another round of their game. He's close enough, leaving little enough space between them, that her implication is deliberately insulting in the way she slowly raises her cup and sips at it before answering him.]
And that's my fault?
[He's talented, with those nimble long-fingered hands of his. It's hard not to feel a thrill when they're touching her.]
Maybe you should learn to focus better.