#seagullspeaks

He felt Barbara’s hands somewhere around his neck, and realized after a beat, she was touching his tie.

“Hm?” He asked, trying to look down at it “is something wrong?”

“No.” She spoke simply, running it through her fingers, feeling it's make and quality. It was soft, new, and — 

“It’s not a clip on…” 

“Oh? Oh! Yes — I — i-it’s a traditional tie.” He spoke sheepishly, “I like learning new ways to tie it… there’s a few good articles I’ve clipped and have saved... i-in a book...”

There was a gleam of amusement in her eyes, before, she gave a sharp tug on its end to test it true, the unexpected movement causing him to stumble a bit forward, hands out instinctively to catch himself.

Suddenly, he was close, really close, and caught himself against her, glasses askew and looking quite absurd. His face was flushing almost as red as the wine on the table, he opened and closed his mouth like a fish when he realized he'd bumped into her -- the creeping feeling of human touch sticking their fingers down his throat, trying to reach his hammering heart. 

“D-Dr. Lake…” he spoke in apology, quickly removing his hands from her waist, where he'd caught balance, “A absurd fumble on my part — I — I’m so—.”

Then, smiling, she did the next most absurd thing in pulling that tie.