you could call me babe for the weekend

Flora

Closing her eyes as if by focusing hard enough on the sensation of his hand she might will the pressure to increase, as the butcher withdraws Flora's eyes flash open. It isn't because she's worried about being overheard or discovered, but because her immediate thought is that once again he's pulling away from her. Soon he'll be telling her to move, to get dressed, to go, to get out.

Only as she gazes down at him, she realizes he's doing none of those things: his eyes are just as darkly mischievous as they had been, his hand at least more or less in the same place, and his words are amused rather than disappointed. "I could always just call out that I'm buying this whole place and for everyone to leave?" The queen suggests in a voice that's as frustrated as it is playful.

Letting her leg slip from his shoulder with a sigh of regret, she'd have finished in under a minute she was sure, Flora begins to softly comb the butcher's hair back into place while it was still easy to reach. "I hope you're proud of yourself." She scolds in a low voice, now that she's quite certain there's no way for him to be unaware of just how much his teasing had riled her up.

Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep

Code stolen from Queen Sky