Seeing him, her expression changes from embarrassed to concerned.
“I’m fine,” Lanz says, before she even asks anything. “I’m just feeling a little?—”
He winces—winces like he’s in pain.
“Lanz—”
“I’mfine.” His eyes are still shut when he says it, and his voice is steely. He breathes out, opens his eyes, and when he speaks again, his tone is softer. “What’s up, Gwenna?”
“Oh, nothing.” She hugs one arm to her body, looking uncomfortable again. She’s wearing a big, thick sweater, nothing fancy, and...no pants? No, she has on leggings, I realize. Tight and black.
“It's just, there’s flowers,” she says. “Roses? In my room. A bouquet.” She fusses with the ends of her hair. "And I was wondering if one of you--"
"Ah, yeah." Lanz ducks his head. “That was me.”
Gwenna softens. “Really?”
He shrugs. He isn’t meeting her eyes, I notice. “I heard you telling Morgan your room looked like a prison cell."
Damn. I never would have thought of that. Flowers. But he would have. Of course he would have.
Kinda love that about him.
Gwenna's blushing.
"You didn't have to do that,” she says.
"You don't like them," Lanz says, voice flat. "I'll get something different. I wasn't sure what you'd usually--"
"Of course I like them," Gwenna interrupts, sounding almost exasperated. "Who doesn't like getting flowers?" She tucks her arms back into her sweater sleeves. "I've just never gotten flowers before," she says softly.
"Oh." Lanz nods. "Ha. Well, me neither, so." He shrugs.
Gwenna sweeps over to the couch, leans in, and kisses Lanz on the cheek. "Thank you."
As she straightens, Lanz's face goes stark and stiff, wracked with some emotion I can't quite parse.
And Gwenna sees it too.
“I’m sorry,” she says quickly, her voice barely a breath. “I shouldn’t have just...done that.” She glances at me, for some reason.
My eyes go wide. Like I would mind?
“No,” Lanz rasps, shaking his head rapidly back and forth. “No. No.” He swallows, and actually manages a laugh.
“What?” Gwenna and I say in unison.
Lanz shakes his head. “It’s just, I don’t think you know how desperate I am for you to touch me, Gwenna.”
Surprised, stunned, Gwenna tilts her head, like she’s studying him. Then she reaches out and gently takes his face in one hand, her thumb stroking his cheek.
A little gasp escapes her lips. “You’re hot,” she says.
“Likewise,” Lanz croaks. Gwenna scowls.
“You know what I?—”
“No, I do,” he interrupts. “I do.”
