[There's no idleness to the brush of his fingers - no one could misconstrue it as accidental -, but it still should hardly give her any kind of pause. She's naturally used to the lay of his hand, with or without the thick leather gloves he tends to wear while on patrol. This is hardly the first time he's touched her so just like this isn't the first time she's sat so near on his furniture. There should be no second thought to it, simple as that.

And yet-- by the brush of his fingers, she softens by a perceptible handful of degrees, her eye line shifting from his face to the angle of his elbow and the amused tilt to her mouth settling into something like contented. It lasts a moment, less then, before she's raising her glass finally and pressing the edge of the cup to her lips. She takes a sip, the tea still tingling with heat.]

What I'm certain of is that we'll be late if you don't put some effort into looking presentable soon. You should find your shoes and coat. -And don't think by going slowly about it on purpose that you'll work free of my trap.