[ When she opens her mouth, it's to answer him, too used to surrendering to the brush of his fingertips against the plane of her waist to think twice about it, but an unprecedented yelp comes out instead, and she kicks to free herself from his weight, twisting to paw her way further up the bunk again as though it might pull her from his grasp. Her breath comes in short wheezes seized only when she has the opportunity between half-whines, half-laughs.
Conceptually, it isn't foreign to her at all. She knows tickling. But she hasn't felt it that she can recall, too long without intimate touch, longer still without something usually reserved for the gentle hand of a parent. She flinches more than necessary, but staves off the prickling instinct that tells her to jam her elbow into his face and end it quickly. That response is for the wrong kind of vengeful pounce, and she knows it, if distantly. ]
Stop! [ She howls through her laughter, sputtering over the word. ] That's cheating!
i mean how surprising is that really
Conceptually, it isn't foreign to her at all. She knows tickling. But she hasn't felt it that she can recall, too long without intimate touch, longer still without something usually reserved for the gentle hand of a parent. She flinches more than necessary, but staves off the prickling instinct that tells her to jam her elbow into his face and end it quickly. That response is for the wrong kind of vengeful pounce, and she knows it, if distantly. ]
Stop! [ She howls through her laughter, sputtering over the word. ] That's cheating!