Beneath the Surface (For Weonna)

[CyanDimitrik]

The sudden uptick in aggression as she shoves him off doesn't bother him, likely much to Rianne's vexation. It actually hits him differently now that they've connected on a different level. It feels less like an earnest ire, and more a defense. A posture. A need to protect herself, perhaps more than ever before after being pinned in the ring after their explosive first encounter at that press release. He's pushed off of her, finally breaking the warmth of skin contact - but with a sly snicker, not disappointment.

He's quick to move to the side, however, and pop open his gym bag to retrieve a pair of black boxers. He's not at that point where being casually naked is fine yet. Though after pulling them on, that snicker has evolved into a full laugh. She's going to love this reminder:

"You're in my room, Sporty Spice!"

Meaning, she may have to find something to wear and leave herself, rather than get the luxury of kicking him out. She may be staring down the barrel of the walk of shame, as he forces her to find something to wear that clearly isn't hers before getting to be rid of him by stepping out into the backstage public.

Of course, any thoughts of that may be promptly interrupted with the sudden feel of a soft, adroit peck on the cheek.

"Gimme a second to find pants and you can hang out here."

Of course he wouldn't actually subject her to that kind of humiliation ritual. He just wanted her to know he could, if he felt her bratty disposition warranted it. But true to his word, he sets about finding a pair of slacks to awkwardly pull on over his boots, stuffs his trunks into his gym bag, then unless stopped, takes his leave with his bag to let her keep her dignity.