[She makes good background noise—which is a compliment—and he lets her voice wash over him, leaning into the hands on her shoulders as he picks up a pen and equations begin growing across the pad of paper. But as she straightens, and her voice gets a little more heated, he pauses, sets the pen down, tips his head to listen.
There had been a time when he hadn't stood for very much to be proud of. He doesn't know how long that would have gone on, if Zoom hadn't violently altered his world. But he'd never been about money or power. Not really.
But this Norman Osborn sounds like someone he wouldn't mind running out of business, if that was the kind of thing he did.
He turns on the stool, reaching up to catch at one of the hands that's been thrumming against his shoulders, looking up at her, and he wants to tug her down into his lap, but he doesn't. And it's fairly clear that wants to, but he doesn't...know...where they stand. So he doesn't.]
no subject
There had been a time when he hadn't stood for very much to be proud of. He doesn't know how long that would have gone on, if Zoom hadn't violently altered his world. But he'd never been about money or power. Not really.
But this Norman Osborn sounds like someone he wouldn't mind running out of business, if that was the kind of thing he did.
He turns on the stool, reaching up to catch at one of the hands that's been thrumming against his shoulders, looking up at her, and he wants to tug her down into his lap, but he doesn't. And it's fairly clear that wants to, but he doesn't...know...where they stand. So he doesn't.]
I might. Does your world need STAR Labs?