It wasn't like him.
Oh, the words were him, easily enough. His lies were outrageous, and obvious, and often used as a distraction; that he was admitting to it was something new between them. However, it served as a secondary distraction, pulling her attention away from what he was doing. What was he doing?
It was a game. It was always a game with him. She just couldn't quite tell why. Why he'd sought her out in her own, secret, personal space. Why he'd striven to put her off her feet from the start, to make her feel the part of a doxy in her own home, to tip her to the side and then become supplicant, and needy. Had he truly been needy, would he have approached her inside her room, when he knew it would only make her angry?
Her eyes narrowed fractionally. She lifted her chin, unmoving, weight slowly shifting from foot to foot.
"Who've ye been talkin' to, honey-pot, what tweaked yer whiskers an' tol' ye no?"
Oh, the words were him, easily enough. His lies were outrageous, and obvious, and often used as a distraction; that he was admitting to it was something new between them. However, it served as a secondary distraction, pulling her attention away from what he was doing. What was he doing?
It was a game. It was always a game with him. She just couldn't quite tell why. Why he'd sought her out in her own, secret, personal space. Why he'd striven to put her off her feet from the start, to make her feel the part of a doxy in her own home, to tip her to the side and then become supplicant, and needy. Had he truly been needy, would he have approached her inside her room, when he knew it would only make her angry?
Her eyes narrowed fractionally. She lifted her chin, unmoving, weight slowly shifting from foot to foot.
"Who've ye been talkin' to, honey-pot, what tweaked yer whiskers an' tol' ye no?"
