[She is slow to move out of his way - it's an unexpected change of trajectory, though that's not really an excuse. How many times has she reflexively, instinctively shifted out of his line of fire in the field? Though they're not on the field now. Maybe that makes it excusable to find herself all but pinned in under the shadow of his arm, her hip gently checked against the shape of the bar.
Her hand is still, technically speaking, at his arm though her fingers have gone vague and light there. She is looking at his shoulder, a fixed wrinkle in the fabric from where he slept in his clothes.]
Grayson.
[She lifts her face, unsure if she means to check him.]
no subject
[She is slow to move out of his way - it's an unexpected change of trajectory, though that's not really an excuse. How many times has she reflexively, instinctively shifted out of his line of fire in the field? Though they're not on the field now. Maybe that makes it excusable to find herself all but pinned in under the shadow of his arm, her hip gently checked against the shape of the bar.
Her hand is still, technically speaking, at his arm though her fingers have gone vague and light there. She is looking at his shoulder, a fixed wrinkle in the fabric from where he slept in his clothes.]
Grayson.
[She lifts her face, unsure if she means to check him.]