A humming pause, Derrica drawing back by degrees. Their noses bump. The idle shift of her hand over him doesn't falter. She smiles around the instinctive response of everywhere, the kind of response that's so broad as to be of little use. She pats his check gently as she shifts up, laying her forearm across her chest so she lean against him and look down into his face.

She dips briefly to peck him a soft kiss as she lets go of him. The lingering impression of Loxley's fingers prickle along her skin.

"Here," she tells him, with a trailing of her fingers at the high point of his throat. The solemn tone of her voice is offset by the brightness of her eyes, her flushed cheeks.

"And here," she continues, as she tiptoes across his shoulder, over her own arm, then down his chest, pausing over the scar across his belly to add, "And here."