very short drabble, was originally going to add it as another chapter in S'il Te Faut but it's a bit too different so it's on its own!
their respectable footwear lies in a corner of Shosanna's room. her overcoat and hat abandoned beside the door, making unlikely friends with his uniform tunic and dress shoes.
she nestles into his chest, lightly skimming her fingers over the exposed skin just above his undershirt.
(later she will allow her hand to make its way further down his chest, over his stomach and into his shirt and the rest of his clothes as if she has no intention of stopping it.)
(she doesn't).
but for now she simply tangles their legs together and looks up to see him smiling when her bare foot barely grazes his.
she turns her head back, afraid to let Fredrick see her return the smile so she nestles closer and lets his chest know instead.
ashamed at feeling for him and almost more ashamed at feeling in the first place, she puckers her lips, pretending to be unsatisfied but it looks more like a kiss only it's not.
(the fact that she presses the expression to that upsetting irresistible patch of his exposed skin doesn't help her case).
she reasons with herself that if anything, this will make it less surprising when she has to negotiate with him later-
(his belt for a few buttons on her blouse, the clasp on his dress slacks for her thin camisole).
-but she's getting ahead of herself.
she brushes her lips against the warm skin of his collar bone (the taste of lilac soap) again, and is almost endeared when he shivers.
she knows he will gasp when she (gently) rubs her knee upwards along his inner thigh, but for her own sake she prolongs it.
time passes.
they don't speak; neither has since they took their place on the bed, it would just seem redundant-
and here we are: a graceful touch from her, a sharp breath from him. it's all she needs.
