“You don’t trust me, but you’re the one who came here asking if I had time for you.” She tilted her head. “Changed your mind, then, Petya?”
Pietro rolled his eyes, “I didn’t change my mind, I just like a little fun before hand.”
“I’ll repeat: you came to me.” Summer lifted her hand and brushed a fingertip over his lips.
She listens to the rain pelt against the windows and stretches lazily. “Sounds good to me.”
“One day,” she said, coming closer to him, “you’ll have to explain why that’s such a big deal to you. But I won’t. You know I won’t.” She put a hand on his chest, looking up with earnest eyes.
“No I won’t,” he said in a deadpan tone while he looked at her, “I’ve heard it before Summer.”
“You don’t trust me, but you’re the one who came here asking if I had time for you.” She tilted her head. “Changed your mind, then, Petya?”
“Empath, Pietro,” she singsonged. “I can have you begging without ever touching you.”
Pietro sighed, “Yeah well that’s a bit not fair you know. And I really don’t like people getting into my head.”
“One day,” she said, coming closer to him, “you’ll have to explain why that’s such a big deal to you. But I won’t. You know I won’t.” She put a hand on his chest, looking up with earnest eyes.
“Hey, you came to me! Are you saying I can’t turn you on? Are you forgetting what I am?” she teased.
“Can you? And I guess I am forgetting, maybe I need to be reminded.”
“Empath, Pietro,” she singsonged. “I can have you begging without ever touching you.”
“I could be up for that.”
Pietro grinned, “Maybe I should make you work for it this time Summer.”
“Hey, you came to me! Are you saying I can’t turn you on? Are you forgetting what I am?” she teased.
“Nothing. Nothing at all. How about you, Mr Pietro?”
“So that means you’re up for doing me?”
“I could be up for that.”
Phil cracked an eye open. He’d fallen asleep at his desk (doing the ever popular paperwork) but he awakened immediately at the feel of fingers in his hair. “‘Lo.” he said softly, still half out of it.
“Go home, go to bed, Phil,” she said softly, familiar because they were alone. “It’ll still be there tomorrow.”
“But moving.” Phil sighed. He had a couch in his office, he could just crash there. Wouldn’t be the first time.
“I know,” Summer coaxed, “but you will sleep better at home. Come on. Leave the office. The interns think you live here.”
Phil cracked an eye open. He’d fallen asleep at his desk (doing the ever popular paperwork) but he awakened immediately at the feel of fingers in his hair. “‘Lo.” he said softly, still half out of it.
“Go home, go to bed, Phil,” she said softly, familiar because they were alone. “It’ll still be there tomorrow.”
