It's an invitation. He tilts his head slightly into his touch this time, and when their lips meet his grip on his wrist loosens, falling away before winding down the side of his ribcage, finding a place to lightly settle just above his hip.

It's the intimacy combined with the pine and incense of Rathal'pesha. Summons the memory of another partner, another life that isn't his own.

Thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance outside the glass dome above them, far away, as if coming from another domain entirely. He has to focus on the scent of this almost-stranger's skin, his own rising heat. He focuses on where their lips meet, the space between their hips, the unfamiliar taste of his mouth when his teasing finally draws Kalil's tongue.

He's left the tall doors open, but that's an afterthought.