<div class="floatleft">(http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/38800000/Lea-Seydoux-Paris-Match-Photoshoot-2015-lea-seydoux-38820141-1280-986.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><strong>Name:</strong> Félicité Mercier<br/><strong>Age:</strong> 30<br/><strong>Status:</strong> Professor of History JCPA<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Apartment #5, Ground floor of Guinevere Staff Apartments Building <br/><strong>Date &amp; Time:</strong> September 27th | 7:47 PM<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> Shane Harris | CLOSED<br/><strong>Playing:</strong> Achille-Claude Debussy (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qRZmdzCGLYw)</span><br/><br/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;">Shane made a small sound. Félicité thought it almost sounded like a whimper and it drew her attention back to the girl. Letting her shoulders drop, she looked into the face above hers. There were shadows playing over the features and they were surprisingly adept at covering up the girl’s expression. Félicité's eyes traced the contours visible trying to discern the expression playing on the planes and hollows of Shane's face but it remained inscrutable. The concern in her voice as she stroked the back of Félicité head however, evaded the wily darkness well enough.<br/><br/>It took a moment for Félicité to figure out what exactly Shane's intent was with her stroking. The motion distracted her. The feeling of Shane's fingers cupping her head caused her mind traveled to places it should not. Not with a student and not at a place like Jamison. Félicité's tongue flickered between her lips, wetting the lower one as she tried to marshal her muddled thoughts and regain some control. Then the pink tip of her tongue disappeared back inside her mouth, lips left slightly parted as Félicité's breath panted lightly past them. <br/><br/>She wished she could blame her lack of clarity on a head injury. Her behavior would have been so much easier to explain if she'd cracked her skull against the floor. But she had not even that flimsy excuse to cling too. Shane was speaking to her, asking questions and Félicité knew she needed to answer. Respond in some way that would reassure Shane she was okay. Only Félicité suspected perhaps she really wasn't. And wouldn't be again for a very long time. Her head tipped, her eyes skating to the side.<br/><br/>“Ahhh,” Félicité answered rather noncommittally. The word was vague but it offered at least some form of acknowledgement to the question on her well being. No it didn't provide any sort of accurate or relevant answer. But it was the best she could muster at the moment. The rough material of Shane's pants were abrading the sensitive skin of her thighs. The feel of it was not altogether unpleasant and it was very distracting. Félicité fought the urge to slide one leg upward along the material. To curl her heal around the girl's back and pull her into closer contact.<br/><br/>She swallowed, suppressing the urge. Instead the hand not resting lightly against the bare skin of Shane’s shoulder reached out and found the wrist of the arm Shane had braced near her ear against the hard wood of the floor. The other woman was obviously trying to keep some of her weight off Félicité. <acronym title="Pity"><em>Pitié</em></acronym> whispered a small part of her brain. Félicité ruthlessly suppressed the thought. Even with Shane bracing, there were enough pieces of their bodies pressed together Félicité had to consciously suppress the shiver that wanted to dance up her spine.<br/><br/>Félicité’s fingers curled around the muscle, bone and tendons wrapped in the soft, warm skin of the younger woman’s arm. It was likely her imagination, but Félicité fancied she could feel Shane’s pulse racing under her hand at the wrist.  She swallowed hard, her breathing becoming more rapid without her consent. Between the cool air skating up her legs and the contrasting heat of Shane pressed against her, Félicité could feel her nipples hardening under the shirt she wore. A flush painted her cheeks and she fought the urge to look back into Shane's face.<br/><br/>And then Shane was gone, no longer hovering above her. The hand that had been curled around Shane’s wrist dropped to rest lightly against her abdomen, rising and falling with each breath she took. Perhaps if she pressed the hand there, the queer feeling that was roiling in her stomach would stop? The other arm, by nature of Shane’s movement, was curled around the girl. Almost in a half hug. Félicité didn’t let herself recognize how nice it felt to have the girl tucked up against her.<br/><br/>Instead she took a deep breath. And then another as Shane’s words vibrated against the skin of her neck. Félicité squirmed. Her second foot drawing up to rest on the floor as her thighs rubbed against Shane's leg sprawled between them ever so slightly. The fingers of her hand curled into the fabric of the shirt.<br/><br/>The window! Yes of course!<br/><br/>“Yes!” Félicité said in an almost embarrassing rush as she grasped for something to take her mind of her current position. Sitting up she carefully extricated her arm from around Shane without making eye contact and started babbling.<br/><br/>“The window. <acronym title="Of course!"><em>Bien sûr! </em></acronym> We should close it. It is a very chilly evening. <acronym title="Yes, yes."><em>Oui, oui.</em></acronym>”<br/><br/>Félicité pushed to her knees and reached upward, the movement drawing the hem of her shirt upward far enough to expose the rounded swells of her bottom tucked demurely in the cotton panties she's pulled on after her bath. <br/><br/>“And the noise you know,” she continued, her accent heavily coloring her words. “We would not want anyone to hear. <acronym title="Isn’t that so?"><em>N'est-ce pas?</em></acronym> <br/><br/>She heaved on the window frame and pulled the glass sharply down. It closed with an unfortunate clatter that still somehow managed to make her jump even though she had been expecting it. Her toes curled at the sound. A small sign of embarrassment she hoped Shane did not notice. <br/><br/>With a single, negative shake of her head, Félicité pushed to her feet, rubbing the palms of her hands together as she stood. Although she didn’t consciously realize it, she avoided looking at Shane where she lay pressed against the floor and wall. Félicité just needed... something. A little time and distance to pull herself together.<br/><br/>“Tea?” She chirped, asking her somewhat unexpected guest in a voice that made Félicité want to wince. Still. She rushed off toward the little area that served as a small kitchenette in her apartment to get another glass.</span><br/>