She runs her thumbs over the heels of his palms.

"Okay."

Tugging his hands to her waist, she gently positions them on her body. With another crooked smirk, she bends to retrieve the half-full drinking glass from the floor, and takes another grateful gulp. The fingers of her free hand follow the soft ridges up his forearm, muscle and vein, breaking at his elbow to ghost along his ribs.

She offers him what's left of her water.





"D'you wanna make out?"

See, she's learning.