[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]satisfaction brings the cat back. every time, without fail. and this will prove to be no different. now that she's gotten a taste, she'll return if only to keep using and using until there's nothing left for him to give her. and then maybe she'll move on or maybe she'll finally grow a heart and stop playing the avoiding game. the running game, the one she knows with her eyes closed and her mind shut off. it always comes around the same way, the same time, the same detachments. oh well.

for now, she's content and even blissful.

the smile she flashes him when he offers her the box of mac n cheese is lazy, fuzzy at the seams as if it's melting into her cheeks. "thank you, darling." mac n cheese, wine, sex. what more could a girl ask for? nothing. well, besides more of each but that's for later if she decides it's worth lingering for. the jury's still half out on that one but she has an inkling.

giada stills slightly when he asks the question, pausing in the act of draping her legs over his. there's hesitation in her, that much is obvious. and maybe it's because she's not a stay the night kind of girl. more of a dine and dash, always on the run kind. the concept has her more nervous than she'd like to admit. but, then again, this whole thing pricks slightly at anxieties hidden away.

"sure." it's a lie and she knows it. he might not be aware of that, yet, but he'll find out when she's gone again.

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]"are you?" she murmurs before she can really stop herself. it's soft, almost like an afterthought. and maybe she's just curious or seeking some sort of reaction but she doesn't take it back. instead, she'll tilt her head toward him, lips hovering at the rim of her wine glass.

and while she shouldn't shift a little closer to him and definitely shouldn't follow his fingers on her thighs, she's giving in to whatever this is without much of a fight. it's fleeting, that much she knows. she'll be gone like a drifloon in the wind come morning and the process might even repeat again but for now, at least, they're settled on the couch and content.

hell, she might even be inclined to say she's a little happy. imagine that, right?

"i'll take the whole blanket," she states, eyes drifting back to the tv screen. truthfully she hasn't been paying attention to whatever is playing but it seems interesting enough. and with a soft snicker, she offers a little more. "you'll have to sleep in the cold." talking like she's gonna stay long enough to even get beneath a blanket. she won't but it's a nice thought, she supposes.

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]her body stills at the contact, at the hand brushing against her cheek. it's nice, sweet even, and totally foreign. she doesn't know how to react, how to do anything besides stare at him. and maybe it's just because she's never experienced someone being gentle with her or simply just that she doesn't really do things like this. eventually, her cheek will lean into it slightly before pulling away like that's the only thing she can do.

she says nothing, letting silence fill spaces around the mild noise from the tv. he's closer now, just as she is, and it's just as comforting as it is terrifying. she's going to leave. her body is screaming for such. when, though? when sleep calls for him or when she's wrapped up in a blanket and him like the last time?

he distracts her from her thoughts, pulling her attention until it snaps back to him. and the words he speaks are genuine, gentle, and warm. and she, despite herself, smiles slightly at the thought. "if you say so," she murmurs in response. he won't be without a blanket for long, that much is obvious to her. and maybe the thought rises for a moment to tuck him in when she leaves but it leaves as suddenly as it comes.

sleep wants to claim her, too, but she won't allow it. not yet, not now. it's dangerous to get comfortable with him, dangerous to allow a closeness like this.

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]she's trying to stay still as he lays down, as he shifts to half hold her, half embrace her. and really, it feels a little too good to have an arm draped over her side. a little too warm, a little too comforting. she's never actually been in this kind of position before. sure, it's happened after intimacy but not enough for her to be comfortable with such an act.

and yet, despite the foreign concept of it all, she lingers for longer than necessary. long enough for him to whisper goodnight, for her to press a little closer, for him to nuzzle into her hair. chasing some need she's buried for so long it feels like a distant memory. and eventually, she gets her fill.

it's not even half an hour into his sleeping that she untangles herself from him. there's a gentleness to her movements, as if she's trying to escape without disturbing him. and maybe there's a little taste of regret souring her actions but she doesn't notice. instead, she slips away without a word.

a notepad is left on the kitchen with precise cursive sprawled across the top page. her actual name and number left behind for him, a change from the last time and the only trace of her remaining in his apartment.

Finley Black