prompt: Amy likes Ian's reading glasses a little too much. (from )
She was used to his black suits, his skinny ties, and his polished leather shoes. She could handle him shirtless and sweaty in the training room. Seeing him in jeans (still Armani, of course) was a bit of a shock at first, but now she doesn't bat an eye. He even managed to make pajamas seem normal.
But nothing compared to the way she felt when she bumped into him in the library that day.
She had dropped her book and when she looked up she found herself staring into dark eyes surround by silver frames. Reading glasses, he said. She nodded numbly, feeling her mouth go dry.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, the corners of his eyes scrunching together behind their temporary glass windows, "Do they look that strange?"
She shook her head, her tongue feeling like she'd just come back from the Sahara—sandy acridity without hope of oasis. She tore her gaze away from his and sat down in the armchair across from his, holding her book in front of her face to discretely take peeks through the open pages.
She watched as his tongue swept out to wet his bottom lip when he turned the page, her heart thumping much too loudly for the quiet library. He looked up from his book and met her gaze, his eyebrows rising above his glasses. She gulped and quickly dipped her head to seem as if her glance was simply fleeting, an unconscious movement.
It was very hard to concentrate knowing he was just across from—
She blinked, where had he gone? The only thing in his chair was the book he'd been looking through. She tensed, her ears straining for the soft pad of his footsteps on the carpeted floor. He was always so damn good at disappearing during times when she preferred him to stay in one place.
"You know, you're not very subtle."
She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge at the sound of his voice next to her ear, silently cursing his ability to be so covert.
He already resembled a high-end banker rather than the overwrought 18-year-old she knew him as, but the glasses added a bit of extra intensity to his seemingly holier-than-thou attitude. He perched himself on the arm of her chair and she deliberately stared down at the book in her lap instead of up at his gold-tinted frames. His smugness practically had it's own aura, after all, there was no need to build it up any further.
"If I knew you'd react this way," he chuckled, the sound echoing deep in his throat making the back of her neck feel dangerously warm, "I would have worn my glasses sooner."
She saw him glance at his watch out of her peripherals, then curse at whatever time it showed. She almost sighed in relief at his hasty goodbye…until he turned back and winked at her shamelessly.
That bastard.