Maybe she should count them down. But if she thinks about it too hard, builds up any amount of anticipation, the humiliation is bound to get the better of her. Instead, she grips the edge of her shirt and folds her arms upward. The chill of the air on her skin draws a shiver out of her, but at least it keeps the warmth in her stomach from growing any more molten.
The shirt is set carefully aside and... Abruptly she finds she isn't sure what to do with her hands. She folds them in her lap eventually, fidgeting as she does her best to avoid hiding herself. Even with a bra on, she feels incredibly bare.
Armin fully intends to lift his shirt along with Angel, but presented with the sight of her lifting her shirt, exposing inch after inch of her pale stomach marked only by the swirling lines of her Siren mark, he freezes unable to do anything but stare. When her shirt is high enough to reveal her bra, he swallows. Hard.
He's seen those before! Angel's bras, that is. But he's only seen them in a very different context -- in their laundry basket or in a drawer. He's never seen one while it is actually on her, the fabric curving and cupping delicate soft flesh that he's only been able to dream of until now.
Abruptly he realises that Angel has set her shirt fully aside, fidgeting slightly while he is still sitting here with his on and an utterly dumbfounded expression on his face.
"S-sorry. I totally meant to take off my shirt too but--" He's flushing. He wasn't lying or tricking Angel or anything, it's just-- "You are really beautiful, Angel. I just ended up thinking that I forgot about everything else."
no subject
Maybe she should count them down. But if she thinks about it too hard, builds up any amount of anticipation, the humiliation is bound to get the better of her. Instead, she grips the edge of her shirt and folds her arms upward. The chill of the air on her skin draws a shiver out of her, but at least it keeps the warmth in her stomach from growing any more molten.
The shirt is set carefully aside and... Abruptly she finds she isn't sure what to do with her hands. She folds them in her lap eventually, fidgeting as she does her best to avoid hiding herself. Even with a bra on, she feels incredibly bare.
no subject
He's seen those before! Angel's bras, that is. But he's only seen them in a very different context -- in their laundry basket or in a drawer. He's never seen one while it is actually on her, the fabric curving and cupping delicate soft flesh that he's only been able to dream of until now.
Abruptly he realises that Angel has set her shirt fully aside, fidgeting slightly while he is still sitting here with his on and an utterly dumbfounded expression on his face.
"S-sorry. I totally meant to take off my shirt too but--" He's flushing. He wasn't lying or tricking Angel or anything, it's just-- "You are really beautiful, Angel. I just ended up thinking that I forgot about everything else."