That's much better. She smiles softly, tucks herself into the last little bit of space that had been left between them.
"I'm getting better at riding," she says, just suggestive enough to make it a joke. They haven't done that since she got worse because she's been too afraid of hurting him, too afraid of what might happen, and if they talk about it it keeps it from being something that feels like a failure on her part. She doesn't feel bad for not being able to sleep with him, but she does miss it. It's just one more thing this sickness is keeping her from and she resents it for keeping her from doing what she'd like to be doing with him.
Which, she thinks, makes sense. They've just recently confessed their love, all she wants to do is show that.
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He sounds like he could very well live with that idea.
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"I'm getting better at riding," she says, just suggestive enough to make it a joke. They haven't done that since she got worse because she's been too afraid of hurting him, too afraid of what might happen, and if they talk about it it keeps it from being something that feels like a failure on her part. She doesn't feel bad for not being able to sleep with him, but she does miss it. It's just one more thing this sickness is keeping her from and she resents it for keeping her from doing what she'd like to be doing with him.
Which, she thinks, makes sense. They've just recently confessed their love, all she wants to do is show that.