[Uh-oh. Uh-oh. She knows, doesn't she? That twitch of her eye suggests as much. She's not buying this for a second. If Gilgamesh could turn much paler, he probably would, because he of all people should well know Vietnam was no innocent maiden... the way she'd railed against Moura, all anger, all pure, distilled rage, had proven that. This woman was hell on two very fine legs when she committed herself to it.
But now he's stuck playing his own game, and inevitably losing at it, and there's no clear path out of it so he may as well try his luck at bluffing her even though he will undoubtedly wind up with a very sore face because of it. Possibly sore other places, too, feminine wrath could be rather ill-discerning.
Here goes nothing.]
My cheek?
[So obviously that mean it should be lovingly and tenderly stroked. Might as well try to make the most of this...]
no subject
But now he's stuck playing his own game, and inevitably losing at it, and there's no clear path out of it so he may as well try his luck at bluffing her even though he will undoubtedly wind up with a very sore face because of it. Possibly sore other places, too, feminine wrath could be rather ill-discerning.
Here goes nothing.]
My cheek?
[So obviously that mean it should be lovingly and tenderly stroked. Might as well try to make the most of this...]