[As he glances away, she retreats but only to push the robe from her shoulders, letting it puddle to the floor. Her negligee is a short whisp of fabric cutting off well above the knee, trimmed with lace at the bodice. Every breath she takes is perceptible thanks to the scooping neckline.]
Tolerance isn't the same as enjoyment. Don't fight it.
[The back of her hand moves to stroke his cheek, taking the gentle approach in drawing his gaze.]
inb4 she actually sleeps in really lame pajamas ; good job em
Tolerance isn't the same as enjoyment. Don't fight it.
[The back of her hand moves to stroke his cheek, taking the gentle approach in drawing his gaze.]
Let me make it up to you.