Of course he's teasing her. If she claims that she can kiss him without standing on her tiptoes then he'll stay kneeling, though he does shed his shirt. He's not totally 'ripped', by any means, but years of being a pilot, and having to stay in shape (not to mention crawling through the belly of the Falcon in some damn awkward positions) have left him with a solid build.
And there are scars.
Fights and small burns, scrapes long since faded, the faint marks of a lash (sticks and leather or whatever Shrike felt like using that day) across his spine, but he doesn't care.
The past is his past. It will stay that way unless she asks questions.
"Then c'mere," his fingertips reach up to slip beneath the cool metal tags, brushing over the lettering with his thumb. "And kiss me."
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2008-09-16 10:06 pm (UTC)Of course he's teasing her. If she claims that she can kiss him without standing on her tiptoes then he'll stay kneeling, though he does shed his shirt. He's not totally 'ripped', by any means, but years of being a pilot, and having to stay in shape (not to mention crawling through the belly of the Falcon in some damn awkward positions) have left him with a solid build.
And there are scars.
Fights and small burns, scrapes long since faded, the faint marks of a lash (sticks and leather or whatever Shrike felt like using that day) across his spine, but he doesn't care.
The past is his past. It will stay that way unless she asks questions.
"Then c'mere," his fingertips reach up to slip beneath the cool metal tags, brushing over the lettering with his thumb. "And kiss me."