[ The corners of her mouth tuck up, but there's no warmth in her eyes at his recognition, and the smile itself could be said to be more like a grimace, even as she pretends to get hit by a pretend bullet before shaking it off. ]
That's the one. Good old Wyatt.
[ She considers him from beneath lowered lashes, the way he's watching her with those bright eyes. He's not the first guy she's met who's into a woman who can hold her own, but they're fewer and further between here than in the smoke-filled dives she frequents at home. Turning her head, she flutters her lashes at him. ]
What, little ol' me?
[ Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. Two can play at this teasing game. ]
no subject
That's the one. Good old Wyatt.
[ She considers him from beneath lowered lashes, the way he's watching her with those bright eyes. He's not the first guy she's met who's into a woman who can hold her own, but they're fewer and further between here than in the smoke-filled dives she frequents at home. Turning her head, she flutters her lashes at him. ]
What, little ol' me?
[ Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. Two can play at this teasing game. ]
Do I look dangerous right now?