Ohhh, no, don't you give me that. ( except scott loves when henley gives him that. likely this speaks of some masochistic tendencies he'd rather not bring up at dinner tables with his jewish parents, but that matters little in comparison to the look henley gives him.

the look that makes it hard for him to do anything else but kiss the edge of one of those pretty, pretty eyes. he kisses henley's temple too, murmuring softly into it. ) How perverted do I sound when I say I like how it hangs off your shoulder like that?

( calloused fingers move, brushing over bare flesh: henley's neck, the curve of her shoulder. scott's finger hooks into the edge of the shirt collar where it's just barely holding on, gently tucking it back up. )

I know you can't tell because I'm incredible at staying cool, but you're killing me, Hen.