Her skin sings under his touch. It almost feels like it's burning.

This's all I want.

She didn't expect he'd feel that way. It'd be safer for them both if he didn't. That's why she took him to her bed, ain't it? He was safe. Somebody who would make her feel good for a little while, fill up the empty spaces, and move on once he was bored. Someone who wouldn't judge her for needing this.

He isn't asking more from her than she can give — not yet, anyhow — and so she forces back the dread pooling in the pit of her stomach. Here and now she can give him. This she can give him. She brings herself lower, laying herself over him like a heavy fur. There is no world beyond the golden curtain hemming them in; nothing outside their eyes, their ears, their mouths. The cats could run laps over them. Dug could stroll in. The entire bar could come down around their ears, and she wouldn't look away.

"Okay."

She's not sure what else to say, and nods helplessly. It's undeniable now that he cares more for her than she does for him. The guilt gnawing on her bones, however, is due to her realization that this could all change in a blink. She could care so easily. She could give in.

But she will not hurt him. She won't.

She kisses him, tentatively, eyes staying open. Like she's tasting him, checking the temperature of her morning tea so she doesn't scald her tongue.

"I need you t'promise me a couple things."