She glances away, her blush darkening. "Don't be mad," she mumbles before handing the book on her lap to him, opened to the page with the new sketch. "I was just thinking about what you said..."
She's been thinking about him a lot more, actually, because he's nice and cute and he's said there's no one back home who might get angry that some strange woman in the hospital is drawing pictures of him. She knows she's not supposed to, since he's her doctor and all that, but she can't help it. Then again she's not supposed to pick fights either, but that hasn't stopped her before, has it? At least this time no one's getting hurt.
She watches his face, bracing herself to be berated for being weird and inappropriate and not acting like she ought to — but also curious how that might look on him, how the lines and curves on that handsome face might change. In fact, she starts to imagine how he might wear more intense emotions: anger, desire, pleasure...
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She's been thinking about him a lot more, actually, because he's nice and cute and he's said there's no one back home who might get angry that some strange woman in the hospital is drawing pictures of him. She knows she's not supposed to, since he's her doctor and all that, but she can't help it. Then again she's not supposed to pick fights either, but that hasn't stopped her before, has it? At least this time no one's getting hurt.
She watches his face, bracing herself to be berated for being weird and inappropriate and not acting like she ought to — but also curious how that might look on him, how the lines and curves on that handsome face might change. In fact, she starts to imagine how he might wear more intense emotions: anger, desire, pleasure...