Remix: Respiration (Breathe Deep Remix) [Fraser, 100 words, rated G], by kernezelda
Scrubbing the floor, while demonstrating Thatcher's displeasure, took little thought. The repetitive motions - bend, scrub, turn, wring, scrub again - instead allowed Fraser's mind to wander.
Thatcher’s breathing was a light susurrus, distracting; the only other sound the slap of lemon-scented water. Earlier, he had glimpsed her watching him. Faint warmth still bloomed across the back of his neck.
Her pen clicked decisively, catching Benton’s attention. His glance fell briefly to the gentle rise and fall of her respiration. He turned away at once, but the image lingered: dark eyes, brows rising… a tinge of heightened color in her cheeks.