She threaded the needle carefully, almost sinking it into her own flesh as she gasped for air. The soft kneading of his hands on her hips didn't leave her unaffected, as she bit the little red patch of her lip again, avoiding every eye-contact. She placed it softly on the edge of the little loose flap of his hands, holding it tightly, as if even to steady herself from the motions he made on her body. She tried to keep her balance, to keep her posture, and breathed in deeply before she thrusted the sharp needle into his rugged skin. Once the needle was trough his skin, she worked her way over it, her limber fingers going fast over the wound, in and out of the flesh, her experience with skin evidently showing. The stitches were close and neatly crossed, the moment she neared the end, and wanted to finish it she looked up, only to find him looking at her inches away from her face. Her lips so close she could feel the soft exhales of air going trough the cloth of his mask.<br/><br/>She lost her balance and her needle, sticking deep inside of his hand, as she twitched her ankle while shuffling them over each other out of nervousity..<i>Gawd she has never been so clumsy in her life!</i><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>