[ Of the many images burned into Steve’s memory, the unfortunate majority are what one might consider disturbing, if not downright traumatic. This is the rare occasion when he is only too happy to feel an image searing itself into the very grooves of his brain. He won’t forget the way that Daisy's confused expression blooms into surprise, then melts under the heat of her gaze until all that remains is lust, pure and focused.
Steve recognizes the daring glint in her eyes and knows he is doomed. He couldn’t pass up the challenge if he tried and Daisy knows it. That kind of transparency would be a vulnerability in the wrong hands. Hell, it’s a vulnerability in her hands, but he can’t summon the concern he should feel. It’s exhilarating. ]
Maybe. [ He gives her a one-shouldered shrug as he steps into the room, as if he could just leave her to it. They both know better, but where’s the fun in that?
Looks like you were getting along just fine without me. [ He nods toward where the toy lay discarded among the sheets. He isn’t so insecure as to feel jealousy over an inanimate object—after all, it’s his shirt she’s wearing—but that doesn’t mean that he has nothing to prove. And he does intend to prove himself, but first he wants to tease this out past the limits of Daisy’s own self control.
Steve retrieves the armchair in the corner, sets it down at the edge of the bed, and takes a seat. He leans back against the plush cushioning and tries to look relaxed. His new vantage point makes it significantly harder, but he manages not to betray the rush of excitement shooting through his veins. ]
Don’t tell me you’re finished already. [ He doesn’t even try to keep the smirk out of his voice. ]
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Steve recognizes the daring glint in her eyes and knows he is doomed. He couldn’t pass up the challenge if he tried and Daisy knows it. That kind of transparency would be a vulnerability in the wrong hands. Hell, it’s a vulnerability in her hands, but he can’t summon the concern he should feel. It’s exhilarating. ]
Maybe. [ He gives her a one-shouldered shrug as he steps into the room, as if he could just leave her to it. They both know better, but where’s the fun in that?
Looks like you were getting along just fine without me. [ He nods toward where the toy lay discarded among the sheets. He isn’t so insecure as to feel jealousy over an inanimate object—after all, it’s his shirt she’s wearing—but that doesn’t mean that he has nothing to prove. And he does intend to prove himself, but first he wants to tease this out past the limits of Daisy’s own self control.
Steve retrieves the armchair in the corner, sets it down at the edge of the bed, and takes a seat. He leans back against the plush cushioning and tries to look relaxed. His new vantage point makes it significantly harder, but he manages not to betray the rush of excitement shooting through his veins. ]
Don’t tell me you’re finished already. [ He doesn’t even try to keep the smirk out of his voice. ]