[Shaw wants to kiss him with teeth. Even more than that, she wants him to kiss her with teeth; she wants him to leave bruises on her skin with his mouth and his fingertips. She wants to run her hands over his chest, the way she sometimes imagines doing when she spars with him or watches him train with his whip - and the way that, she can't help but notice, Root is not doing. Yeah, sure, his shoulders are nice too, but not giving his chest even a little bit of attention is a damn tragedy. What a wasted opportunity.
She makes a small sound in the back of her throat - impatience, discontent, and okay, yes, a tinge of interest too - and paces closer, approaching from the side and circling them like a panther. Once she's gone about three-quarters of the way around, facing Root's back and Carver's front, she worms her way in a little more, bumping Carver's knee with hers and digging an elbow into Root's side. Move it. Let her in.]
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She makes a small sound in the back of her throat - impatience, discontent, and okay, yes, a tinge of interest too - and paces closer, approaching from the side and circling them like a panther. Once she's gone about three-quarters of the way around, facing Root's back and Carver's front, she worms her way in a little more, bumping Carver's knee with hers and digging an elbow into Root's side. Move it. Let her in.]