[ Whining does not become a master assassin. Never the less Zevran screws his face up against Alistair's back and leans up enough on his toes to rub his very cold nose against the skin of his throat. It is still there, but it is cold.
As are his fingers.
Which he thinks nothing of slipping under Alistair's shirt to rest against his ribs. ]
no subject
As are his fingers.
Which he thinks nothing of slipping under Alistair's shirt to rest against his ribs. ]
What do you think?