{Eyes} Traught
She's got him pinned. And he squirms a bit, because that look in her eyes does not bode well for him.
Reaching up slowly with one hand, she plucked his sunglasses from his nose.
He closed his eyes.
Sighing in frustration, she removes her hand.
He catches her wrist, before she can slip it under his shirt.
She rolls her eyes.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
She kisses him.
His eyes fly open.
"Wha-?"
Smirking in satisfaction, she surveys the fruits of her labor.
Wait.
What.
The.
Fudge.
"Richard John Grayson," she growls, voice dangerously low.
He winces.