Chris’ lips tremble around the cotton cloth stuffed between her trembling lips, drool and snot turning the light tan into a dark, muddy gray from moisture. Muffling the uneven pants that escape his overworked lungs.

Long, wet lashes flutter uselessly beneath the satin tie wrapped around the midsection of his head. A much more breathable and lightweight material for comfort; one of the few considerations he’ll get, tonight. Might as well savor it while it lasts.

He tries to garble out something through the fabric, though it comes out wet and ugly. Earning him a pitying pat on the cheek for his efforts, the link on his cheeks and nose flushing out to a darker red. Making him look off to the side in embarrassment.

He shouldn’t like that as much as he already does.