[ There are worse things - far, far worse - then a ferris wheel ride alone with Jaune. Even if her nerves and the irregular pitch of her heart threaten to give her away, it’s nice to get him all to herself, at least for a little while. Except this is far from normal and definitely far from relaxing. With a soft, disconcerting hiss, the leather upholstery of her seat squirms against her thighs. Pyrrha’s chest feels taut, her shoulders steadying. In clear contrast to Jaune, she’s become a lot more alert, fingers itching to go for her weapons. ]
Jaune.
[ Just that, soft but firm. More than enough to get his attention. ]
no subject
Jaune.
[ Just that, soft but firm. More than enough to get his attention. ]
That isn’t me.