"I jus'..."

Her back arches when she feels his hands working to get the layers of red fabric off of her body. She pulls away from him, disentangling herself with care until only that white, silk blouse is left to cover her undergarments. Silk and lace knickers extend down her thighs, meeting the tops of her black silk stockings. The dull flash of candlelight off the gun still snug in her garter holds her attention for one moment longer.

Her hands curl around his jacket. She isn't sure how to answer him in a way that won't give off the wrong message, without having to explain why she feels as she does. Without having to talk about things neither of them want to hear right now.

"I jus' don't want things t'change between us after this."

She closes her eyes. As soon as the words are out of her mouth she regrets uttering them. It's more than that, but she's too stubborn — or too scared — to dig that deep into her emotions right now. She shakes her head, pushing his jacket off his shoulders.

"Never mind that; forget I — prattlin' on like a demented housewife. It's nothin'," she says, rising up on her tiptoes to kiss him with fervor.