[her lips are still curled back in a sneer, even as he sits up and she sees he's wearing -- oh god, he's not wearing anything, not really, and at least she has shorts on, but the tank top bares her sunkissed, scratched-up, muscled arms and her shivery, goosebumped legs stretch out stubbly and strong beneath the shorts, and even though shauna wants to keep him at arm's length, the chill of winter is never far from her mind. she hates being cold, hates, hates, hates it.

so, even though she keeps her eyes fixed somewhere over the stranger's shoulder, shauna reaches out to snatch the sweatshirt once it's within range, clutching it to her chest for a second.] I'm not the one in my tightie whities, dude. [her big doe-eyes flicker down, trace over bare chest, bare abs, over the white of his boxer briefs and thinks of jeff's stupid plaid ones, of how even before jackie was in the house he'd be so hard already, tenting the cheap fabric, hungry for it, desperate for it, his beautiful girlfriend wasn't putting out, so her less-beautiful best friend would have to do-- she squeezes her eyes shut.]

Saber? [a huffy snort as she pulls the sweatshirt on, eyes still closed tight.] Did you pick that yourself, or did your parents reaaaaally like Star Wars? [she pokes her head out, exhaling in relief at the layer of warmth, tugging her hair out to fall tangled over her shoulders.] I'm Shauna.