>>10300967Colby turns around from the shelves full of tapes with a gasp.
>"Ahhh! Amy! Here, let me...!"Colby has grabbed a towel and held it out, but too late. Amy has already caught the spilled wine with her shirt, and the problem is solved.
Well, that problem, anyway. The other problem is that Colby has no idea what to do next, so she just stands there and looks down at Amy. A second or two passes before she realizes that, although Colby is considerably taller, her gaze has fallen a little LOW, and if she was going to stare slack-jawed without any sense at least, she could look Amy in the eyes. So Colby gazes into Amy's eyes, just as Amy begins to speak:
>("You look stunning Colby Jefferson. Absolutely stunning.") Colby's mind and will both melt like butter in a saucepan.
>"Really? Wow, A-Amy! You look..... wait, um, I mean, y-your shirt....."Colby reaches for Amy's shirt, but her hand is nearly trembling and she realizes that she's going to risk putting the sleeves of the valuable silk kimono in contact with the wine-sodden shirt, getting them stained. So instead, she changes the movement of her hand to place it higher on Amy's forearm, gently holding her. She starts to sway in place, and leans in closer to Amy to compensate.
>"D-do you wanna....."Colby might've been starting to say something about sitting down to watch the wrestling tape, but it doesn't matter. She trails off, her face inches from Amy's, her lips slightly parted.
