Bramblepoint we steal fire from the heavens

It was a quieter laugh that slipped out this time. His "attacks" upon more vulnerable places could not be ignored — as much as she might have wished to ignore them, if only to be more successful in her own. As her head tilted back (signifying she truly was weak when put up against him) her lips parted as if she was about to speak. Yet the words were lost somewhere between her brain's thinking and her heart's feelings. Heat grew in her cheeks as she felt embarrassed that she was not able to compose herself. Not that that was truly the worst thing ever in this case.