***[POV: Really Ready Rimecoat]***
My werewolf shifted hands begin to clench and release, but I don't get to count to ten. Citra responded faster than she ever has, even when I asked such a formulaic question.
C: [Productive. This is very good.]
C: [You can see I'm enjoying it.]
I stared at the words, then back up at the still visible part of the photo in the message log. I can still see her tongue out, her black hair trailing down her exposed neckline… but not her eyes anymore.
It does not make anything better. Without her eyes to look at, there is only the neck and the curve toward her bust. The top of it sitting there in that mildly compressive bright orange shirt.
"She is wearing that color a lot lately…"
Not that I can say anything. I was shopping for gray clothing that would stand against her eyes and hair better than the too contrasting white. And there was really no logical need for that to involve whole new sets of undergarments as well.
