"Boots first," Derrica corrects. "Then pants."

There's such a gloriously lack of urgency in this. There's nothing in the warmth of his hand but the pleasure of contact. She rolls onto her side, body curving in towards him.

"You're beautiful," she tells him, as her fingers tap at his chest. Her eyes flick down, then back up. It almost feels like too small a thing to say. Loxley is beautiful, but he's so many other things.

She'll find occasion to tell him about those qualities too. It doesn't all have to fit into this one night.