[ the second she's touching him, things right themselves, his hand running over the fabric of the sleeve of the shirt she stole from him, and leaning in to press their bodies even a little tighter together. her question is a loaded one, for so many reasons, but as ever the words slip out before he decides if he should soften them. ] Not really. [ he doesn't seem to mind much, especially as his other hand shifts to trace her side. ]
no subject