[Peggy's determination supersedes her desire to make friends, which is why as soon as the ball hits the ground, her elbows go out and she has every intention now of getting it back, working to get at the ball with grace. Eventually, she decides that if she wants it...
Well, there might be a little elbowing in the stomach to get in his space, pressed in so she can deliberately block him. She doesn't quite get at the ball like this, but she does prevent him from moving too freely.]
[ Eames lets out a small sound that's half way a chuckle, half way a groan when she pretty much elbows him in the stomach in her attempts to get the ball away from him. Of course he doesn't relent that easily. It's a contact sport and all that.
But given that she's not playing nice, he doesn't feel like he has to either, which means he's going to block her with his chest, broad as it is, right up in her face, his arms spread in a gesture of surrender even if there's nothing of the sort in the way his feet keep the ball away from her. ]
[It certainly does the trick to block her, but not only that, it draws attention to the breadth of it, which is certainly ore than Peggy had thought that she'd get to see today. She presses up against it once, then twice, almost as if testing out the steadiness of it.
When it doesn't seem like he's going anywhere, she decides to turn and try and deke out of the way, managing to grab at the ball and tug it towards herself as it dribbles over his foot.
Laughing, she knows this is hardly very graceful, but a success is a success.]
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womanofvalue) wrote2018-07-18 07:52 pm
I am always good for backtags, so no worries!
Well, there might be a little elbowing in the stomach to get in his space, pressed in so she can deliberately block him. She doesn't quite get at the ball like this, but she does prevent him from moving too freely.]
Let's see what kind of gentleman you are, then.
no subject
But given that she's not playing nice, he doesn't feel like he has to either, which means he's going to block her with his chest, broad as it is, right up in her face, his arms spread in a gesture of surrender even if there's nothing of the sort in the way his feet keep the ball away from her. ]
The kind sort, I would suggest.
no subject
When it doesn't seem like he's going anywhere, she decides to turn and try and deke out of the way, managing to grab at the ball and tug it towards herself as it dribbles over his foot.
Laughing, she knows this is hardly very graceful, but a success is a success.]
Clearly, I won't be on any national teams soon.