[He's very comfortable in her presence. It's nice, he thinks. To have someone you are so comfortable with. Someone you are so willing to lay yourself out to. He doesn't make a grab for the brush. Rather, he just keeps his head tilted for her and leans back into her just slightly, not putting all of his weight on her.]
no subject
Jealous? When was this, love?
[He tilts his head back now, looking up to her.]