I think I can manage being collateral damage
Everest stiffens—just for a moment. Not out of discomfort, but sheer, startled delight, the kind that runs up his spine like an electrical current before settling into a warm, steady hum in his chest. His gaze flicks to the walnut in question, then back to her, and there's no hiding the way his mouth quirks, slow and crooked and deeply pleased.
"I appreciate your honesty," he murmurs, voice low and amused as he lets his thumb trace a faint, almost imperceptible arc along her hip. "It’ll help narrow the parameters considerably. No sense in wasting time on softwoods if you already know your preferences." He says it as if he's making a practical note, but the gleam behind his glasses is anything but clinical now.
Still, he doesn’t push further, not with the market pressing in and the sun casting long shadows over wares that deserve some of his focus. The Everest of old might have, but this one, just two dates in, is still unsure of what boundaries he does and doesn't want to maintain. "Walnut it is, then," he says, half-turning toward the vendor as if this were all very normal, very above-board research. "Shall we get a sample? Then you could conduct hardness tests of your own to see what's to your liking." His hand doesn’t leave her waist, instead, he draws her nearer to him under the guise of helping a shopper slip by them.
"I appreciate your honesty," he murmurs, voice low and amused as he lets his thumb trace a faint, almost imperceptible arc along her hip. "It’ll help narrow the parameters considerably. No sense in wasting time on softwoods if you already know your preferences." He says it as if he's making a practical note, but the gleam behind his glasses is anything but clinical now.
Still, he doesn’t push further, not with the market pressing in and the sun casting long shadows over wares that deserve some of his focus. The Everest of old might have, but this one, just two dates in, is still unsure of what boundaries he does and doesn't want to maintain. "Walnut it is, then," he says, half-turning toward the vendor as if this were all very normal, very above-board research. "Shall we get a sample? Then you could conduct hardness tests of your own to see what's to your liking." His hand doesn’t leave her waist, instead, he draws her nearer to him under the guise of helping a shopper slip by them.
.
