(no subject)

[aimedforthemoon]

She leads Han from the bar up to her room, and open the door with a smile and a flourish of after you.

Her room is a normal, hotel-style room; plush carpet, plain curtains framing large windows, of which one is open. But it's very....neat. She's an astronaut, and they are always neat people, but it's still a little too neat. As if she's not planning on staying.

Her bed is made, her books and manuals either neatly stacked on her desk, or neatly against a wall.

In a slight divergence of the mood, though, she also has models on her desk; a MiG-21PF, a Soyuz rocket, and an RZ-1 A-wing.

Comments

[rebel-falcon.livejournal.com]

"True..."

The word dies in his throat as he tosses his head back against the mattress, groan catching in his throat when his lungs protest breathing for the moment.

or that or anything you do to me

(He'll react once he can think again, at least he hopes.)

[aimedforthemoon]

Esfir just watches him, expression more serene than anything else. Her braid falls heavy and thick against her back, staying in place even when she tugs off the hair-tie. That she wraps around the pins, and she leans forward to toss them onto her bedside table.

Arm braced against the bed for balance, her green eyes flick back to his face before she slowly straightens up. As she moves, she trails her fingers down his chest, following the line of hair down to his belt.

"I think we'll work something out."