[German sounds so different from English to Oona's ears. English doesn't always flow neatly, but there's a lightness to it. German is heavier, rougher, and seems to settle over her skin at a crawl, making her shiver in delight to hear it.
Or maybe that's just because they've moved to the bed, and while Oona doesn't really ,i>expect anything, it still makes her heart beat faster in anticipation. She shifts only a little so she can face him, one hand moving behind herself to undo her hair from its ponytail, spilling the still slightly damp curls over the bed behind her.
Finally recognizing English words she focuses, able to concentrate on the actual words rather than just how they sound.
'Warm,' he says, and though Oona's temperature typically ran colder than humans, she believes it because it feels impossibly warm in the room to her. She shifts again, sliding her legs against his, reaching her fingers out to play with his shirt, curling the hem between her fingers. She wants to touch him to slid her hands against skin and scars, but she can be patient. This time. The last thing she wants is to press him onto a next step he's not prepared to climb just yet. So she'll take her time, she'll tease and hint at what could come, will come, when he's ready.]
Hmm. [A hum of acknowledgement and a smile] That is your fault.
[Her mind loops back around to the German he'd been speaking and she tilts her head slightly] Will you teach me some? Your language-- German. I want to speak it with you, some day.
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Or maybe that's just because they've moved to the bed, and while Oona doesn't really ,i>expect anything, it still makes her heart beat faster in anticipation. She shifts only a little so she can face him, one hand moving behind herself to undo her hair from its ponytail, spilling the still slightly damp curls over the bed behind her.
Finally recognizing English words she focuses, able to concentrate on the actual words rather than just how they sound.
'Warm,' he says, and though Oona's temperature typically ran colder than humans, she believes it because it feels impossibly warm in the room to her. She shifts again, sliding her legs against his, reaching her fingers out to play with his shirt, curling the hem between her fingers. She wants to touch him to slid her hands against skin and scars, but she can be patient. This time. The last thing she wants is to press him onto a next step he's not prepared to climb just yet. So she'll take her time, she'll tease and hint at what could come, will come, when he's ready.]
Hmm. [A hum of acknowledgement and a smile] That is your fault.
[Her mind loops back around to the German he'd been speaking and she tilts her head slightly] Will you teach me some? Your language-- German. I want to speak it with you, some day.