Page 51 of Necromance
At first, she just looked at me. Her gaze was unfocused, hazy from the effects of whatever hellish concoction she’d ingested, but then a slow, lazy smile curved her lips.
I stiffened. That was never a good sign.
“You,” she murmured, her voice thick with drowsy warmth. “Are so handsome when you’re worried… and you smell like vanilla and… smoke.”
I blinked. “What?”
Mia let out a dreamy little sigh and leaned over the bed so that her upper body rested on my legs. She reached up as if to touch my face, but her hand fell short, landing limply on my chest instead. “It’s really quite unfair, you know,” she continued, slurring slightly. “How are women supposed to stand a chance when you look like that?”
My brows lifted, torn between amusement and utter disbelief. “I imagine they manage.”
She hummed, her fingers lazily tracing over my shirt. “It’s just… your face.”
I smirked. “Yes, I do have one of those.”
She squinted, as if struggling to articulate what she meant. “It’s like… like if a painting came to life, but it was brooding and grumpy.” She poked my chest accusingly. “Very grumpy.”
I bit back a chuckle. “I’m not grumpy.”
“You are.” She sighed dramatically, rolling her head to the side to gaze up at me. “But that’s alright. Because you’re also beautiful.”
I felt something tighten in my chest. Fuck.
I knew she was drunk, so drunk that she wouldn’t remember this comemorning. That whatever she said now was nothing more than the ramblings of a woman deep in the throes of a potion that made her… bothered.
And yet, some treacherous part of me wanted to hear more.
“Beautiful, am I?” I mused. “I thought you said I wasinsufferable.”
“You are,” she huffed, shifting slightly. “It’s the eyes, you see. And the hair. And the jaw.” Her fingers brushed my chin in emphasis, and I felt myself tense at the warmth of her touch. “And the way your voice does that… thing.”
“What thing?”
“The thing,” she said seriously, blinking up at me. “The deep, rumbly thing that makes it impossible to argue with you.”
“Funny,” I said, my lips twitching. “You seem to manage just fine.”
Mia let out a breathy laugh, her hand sliding lazily from my chin to my shoulder. “It’s exhausting, you know. Arguing with you.”
I arched my brow. “And yet, you never stop.”
She grinned, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before snapping open again. “That’s because you deserve it.”
I let out a soft chuckle despite myself. “Do I now?”
She nodded solemnly, then squinted as if she had just remembered something very important. “Oh.” She patted my chest clumsily. “You’re also a very good pillow.”
That startled a laugh out of me. “A pillow?”
“Mm.” She made a pleased little sound, curling slightly closer and resting her head in my lap. “A very nice, warm, unfairly handsome pillow.”
I swallowed.
She was drunk. So, so drunk.
The scent of her—flowery and sweet drifted up and I took a deep breath, savoring it. I remained perfectly still, my muscles locked in place as she rested against me, her breath warm against my leg.
This was dangerous. She was dangerous.
