That waste of oxygen, Sophia. God, even looking at her pisses me off. Her face, her voice, her empty fucking brain. The audacity. The absolute fucking nerve.
She dares to look Rava in the eyes after what she pulled?
She looks pissed. I smile. Looks like Ravioli's little revenge plan worked. She turns again, and her gaze drops to his mouth.
For exactly three seconds.
She does it again.
Rava leans his head back with that same annoyed tilt he gives me when I say something and he pretends he's mad.
Sophia puts her hand on the table beside them, too close to his. He moves his hand away.
Good boy.
I finish my disgusting juice in one swallow. Toss the cup aside. I stand. Sophia is in my way, so I pass her like she's nothing but some random background noise.
Nothing to do with me.
I stop behind Rava. I don't say a word. I just reach up and slide my hand along the side of his neck, slow, my fingers curling just under his jaw, tilting his head slightly toward me, just enough to take his eyes off her.
"Don't waste that glare on her," I murmur, close to his ear. "It looks better when it's aimed at me."
And he blushes. God.
What a sweet little thing.
His body melts the second I compliment him. I step in closer, making sure Sophia's got front-row seats.
I loop an arm around his shoulders again, dragging him closer, and my hand immediately finds his throat.
I go up and down over his Adam's apple.
It's calming. Well. It wassupposedto be calming. But it only makes me want to squeeze his throat harder.
Which I don't, because Rava's nervous. Real nervous.
Why the hell is he nervous? It's all fake. An act. But the way he bites his lip? That's not acting.
That's him trying to peel it open again.
He does that in meetings too, every time Charles talks to him like he's disposable.
And then there's the other thing, that stupid little habit he has with his hands.
Left thumb, rubbed over and over with the other hand, like he's trying to sand his own nerves down.
I've noticed that more than five times. I don't know if I should do anything. It probably crosses some line I don't even know how to define.
But I want to see what he does when I do it.
So I catch his hand, slide it behind my back, and take his thumb between my fingers. I start rubbing it with the exact same pressure, the exact same rhythm, exactly the way he does it to calm himself down.
And yeah, he feels it immediately. His whole body goes still, and he turns to look at me with a face that screams, "No fucking way you noticed that."
His eyebrows lift a little. He looks at me suspiciously. I'm seconds from laughing, because the way he's looking at me is actually funny. It's like I just did a magic trick he didn't agree to participate in.
So I stick my tongue out at him.
