The pysical affection prompts -- reaching out with their hand without saying anything, wanting the other one to grab it + Mason and Barbie? Only if you like!
Working with vampires means working outside her comfort zone, Barbie has found. She prefers a warmly lit room with minimal clutter, plenty of pens, her organizer filled with fresh paper, and maybe some gentle, instrumental music. No other distractions. Nothing to do but focus on her work.
These days she finds herself tromping through the damp, dark, and cold woods more and more often. A cool breeze, a sign of the quickly approaching Autumn, bounds through the air, ruffling her ponytail and sliding down the back of her jacket. At least Mason shudders at the same moment she does.
Despite the chill in the air, it's clear he doesn't mind the rest of their mission tonight. He walks through the dirt and undergrowth like he barely notices, silent as the fog that lingers around them.
Together they step through a patch of moonlight breaking through the canopy of leaves above them. The silver light makes Mason glow, kissing his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, his broad chest--
A short gasp escapes her as another damned root grabs at her not-yet-broken-in hiking boot. She stumbles, but manages to catch herself just fine. Irritation distracts her for the next stretch of their walk, until the back of Mason's hand brushes hers.
"Sorry," she says. It's happened a few times now, mostly due to the narrow path and her inability to see very well. Mason huffs, then his hand brushes hers again.
Oh. She squints at him in the dark, but he's looking dead ahead still. Not quite ignoring her, but certainly avoiding meeting her eye. Stretching her fingers out, she finds his hand. He turns his palm, allowing her to tangle their fingers together.
Letting Mason lead her like this makes the walk much easier. His thumb drawing over her first knuckle makes it much, much harder.
