of reindeer and green balloons {m}

A blush bloomed like a rose upon Hawkeye's cheeks. She felt the gaze that lingered from Atticus' pale, frosty eyes, and this piqued her curiosity. He was as dark as she, but blue, instead of steely grey, danced upon his fur with the sinking sunlight that poured through the trees.

A smile quirked at her lip's edge. "You flatter me, Atticus. Just keep doing what you're doing and you'll please me." Voice lingering a bit, Hawkeye was not sure whether she meant his actions at the moment or those he was performing outside of her sight.