[ She turns her head, presses her lips to his thumb. The idea of surprising him is too appealing to pass up, frankly, and she does still find herself drawn to the act of actually picking things out, dressing up. It's not something she had really thought much about before she came to Abraxas, where clothes suddenly became a) much less accessible, and b) much more about function than looks. Even now, with a larger wardrobe and money to afford clothing to her tastes, it still lacks the satisfaction of the ritual she's used to. Pretty underwear had turned out to be substantially more important to her than she thought it was.
Playfully, she writhes out of his grasp. ] Gimme a color and... eight minutes.
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Playfully, she writhes out of his grasp. ] Gimme a color and... eight minutes.