RÉSISTANCE.

The toe of her boot wedges itself in against the downward slope of his ribcage, a deft sort of wiggle managing to be both INNOCUOUS and obnoxious at once.  

( Why yes, she is rather proud. )  

Impatient, a drop to her haunches by his side frees her to pull the forgotten book up from where it’s laid to rest covering his eyes, a careful pinch of calloused fingers affording it all the delicacy of a treasure, or a TIME BOMB.  < ❝ This book must be fascinating. ❞ >  The shift in cipher carries its own meaning, as sun peeking through clouds tells a story that needs no embellishment.  Annexed novel weighed in one hand, Peggy taps the tip of a finger against the sleep - soft valley between proud brows with a schoolteacher’s tut.  ❝ Or perhaps you are just THAT TIRED, hm ?  Perhaps we have been BORING YOU, Monsieur Jones ? ❞