“But we’re not supposed—“ Tricia pulls back against Brian’s hand around her wrist, Brian’s lean forward towards the branch in the corridor, Brian’s sneaky suggestion they ditch the official tour. Her heart pounds in her chest with a strange blend of fear and excitement, naughtiness and dread, the feeling labeled “Brian.”
Who looks back at her, deep-brown bangs curved around his forehead, lashes temptingly long as his hazel eyes glint through them, and then leans in towards her. “D’you wanna see what they’re really working on here?” he whispers in her ear. “Don’t you wanna know what the Institute for Pan-Species Interactivities really does?”
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Okay, here's a not-terrible part:
“But we’re not supposed—“ Tricia pulls back against Brian’s hand around her wrist, Brian’s lean forward towards the branch in the corridor, Brian’s sneaky suggestion they ditch the official tour. Her heart pounds in her chest with a strange blend of fear and excitement, naughtiness and dread, the feeling labeled “Brian.”
Who looks back at her, deep-brown bangs curved around his forehead, lashes temptingly long as his hazel eyes glint through them, and then leans in towards her. “D’you wanna see what they’re really working on here?” he whispers in her ear. “Don’t you wanna know what the Institute for Pan-Species Interactivities really does?”