pastapooper

    You watched his lips move in mute fascination, the thin, pale petals flowing over antiquated terms. You learned on the hard oak table while your chin was cupped in your palm. You vaguely understood that Sebastian was discussing that Shakespeare fellow, but you couldn't care less. All you needed to know was that gorgeous cardinal eyes were fixated on your young form, and that his blindingly handsome face looked so sexy when he concentrated.    "Miss?"    You blinked, sitting back so quickly the chair wavered. You felt like he had asked something of importance. Hot embarrassment crept up your neck as a heavily awkward silence set in.