His kisses and touches left invisible burns on her body, seared deep into her flesh. She felt his fingers brush against her most sensitive places, sending jolts of pure sensation through her body. She reacts. In every way a body would when it's caressed like that. "Mmmmh..." Greedy for more, her body clamoring for more, even as she ground herself against him wantonly. And in every euphoric thud her heart screamed:

I want you!
I want you!

She reveled in the brush of his fingers against her swollen petals. She felt a tight coil winding hotter and tighter with each thrust, like a lock turned from the inside. She held back, fighting against the rising tension with the last shreds of her self-control.

And then, between a breath and a break in rhythm, he said her name.

Her fingers came away wet. She smeared the blood along his jaw, thumb dragging across the corner of his mouth. "That's right" she breathed, before she leaned down to meet his lips. The kiss was a wild tangle of tongues and teeth.

Now, soon... soon..!

"Zalan" Breath tight, her heart climbing ribs like it wanted out. A tremor climbed her spine and seized her by the throat. She held her breath like it was a lie too big to swallow, before it shattered on his lips. First, the cold. Not outside, but within. A chill that bloomed in the pit of her core and spread like ink in water. Threading her ribs, her spine, her thighs. The little death, they called it. The world narrowed to a single point where nerve met nerve, where every thread of her came pulled taut… and she arched into it, bent like a bowstring drawn taut by unseen hands.

Her head fell back as she tumbled headlong into the abyss.

And for a heartbeat, maybe two, everything stopped. The sharp, sweet ache of release wracked her body, everything clenched, then shattered her clean thoughts. The shudder came hard. Heat followed in its wake, overwhelming, absolute. Her bones sang with it. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her, her body shuddering and convulsing.

Silk bit her lip to keep from crying out, but the sound escaped anyway. Ripped from somewhere hidden, torn from her throat like a confession. Silk hated the noise she made. Utters his name again somewhere between broken breaths. A unraveling she hadn’t prepared for. Fingers curled like claws into skin and muscles. She sagged against him, weight heavier than she liked. But her limbs wouldn’t answer, and her thoughts scattered like broken glass. Her lips tremble, jaw slacking, in surprise, powerlessness and total pleasure.

Speak? No, what the hell would she say? She tries to catch her breath but those waves rolling through her are pushing the air out of her lungs.

Little death.
It unmade her.

And when it passed, she felt alive in a way that hurt.
 
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The bloom of copper and acrid ash was full in his nose betwixt the gnash of teeth and and twist of tongues that ripped and licked at each others hurts. Something so familiar he was nearly blind to it. Nearly let it slip through his greedy fingers.

So used to counting what he kept. Coin by coin. Blade by blade. Bone by bone. One hand traced over her scars. Counted her cuts. The other stroked sweet at the quivering want that rocked and rolled with him. Moaned with him. His name on her lips.

Was like ice through his veins, Too clear. Beneath that cold grey sky he knew. He felt to drown in her rain. So he whispered a prayer named Silk against the pulse of her neck as she shuddered and shook. Held her closer as her breaths did break and her twined strength comes undone. He spread his hand wide and braced her neck. Kissed where his eyes could see her heart hammer. Sank his teeth to tender flesh as her claws dug into him, as his body kept its shameless beet. Steady thump after thump.

He was going to carry that weight. Long as he could. Lips tingling with traces of her teeth. All of her wrapped there in his arms. Twisted up as the tangle in his heart. The way she had said his name, the sound of it come off her tongue brighter than any pyre.

His breath colder, as if she'd gone and taken all his heat with those whispers and rakes. Only to have the heat run through.That cry that had ripped through her, and shook him like thunder. Still felt that too. Like lightning through his bones. He moved easy, soft with the push of what little breath was left. All tingle and shake. Tight and coiled begging to break.

"You don't get off," he choked on a whimper, "I'm gonna bust," he grinned with a heat poured down his spine and glistened across his skin as it mixed with all the blood. His body wriggled and squirmed with her pulses. Cock swollen and begging with a trembling ache.
 
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He counted her scars, the places she'd broken and mended. Each scar was a debt paid in blood and silence. Tally marks carved to her flesh. Most scars were clean, neat, from knives, mostly. Others were uglier. Blunt force. Burns. From she’d been young and stupid enough to think she could lie to her father and walk away.

As the last waves of her climax crashed through her, Silk clung to Zalan like he was the only solid thing in a storm, her arms wrapped tightly around his broad shoulders. Her body still pulsing around his cock, lingering contractions of her inner walls gripped his throbbing cock, pulling him deeper in. The final trembling through her core, left her slick and sensitive.

His words hit her like a spark to dry tinder. "You don't get off, I'm gonna bust." They drew a wicked grin from Silk despite the exhaustion weighing on her limbs. Her eyes glazed with bliss. "Don't hold back, bastard" her voice vibrating against his ear as she shifted her hips, rolling them to meet his hips, chasing the embers of her pleasure even as her thighs quivered from the strain. Shifting slightly, she let one hand slide down to his chest, her thumb and forefinger finding his left nipple and pinch it firmly, twisting just enough to elicit a sharp pain.

Her other hand moved from his jaw, hovering for a moment before resting lightly on his throat, mindful of the swollen bruises already marring his skin. She didn't apply any pressure, just let her palm settle there like a claim, feeling the faint thrum of his pulse under her fingertips. Her lips brushed against his in a kiss, soft at first but quickly deepening, her tongue delving into his mouth with hunger. Tasting the salt of his sweat as she pulled back slightly, she wanted to watch him. She wanted to see him bare, watch him fall apart, when the breath caught hard in his chest and the heat broke him from the inside out.
 
It wouldn't take much to watch him crumble. Not after all she had already nicked from him. Fear too greedy to let anything go from it's rusted grasp. Trust so locked beneath breathless orange shadow. Yet there her knife had cut. Her fingers had slipped. Bit by bloody bit. Just the right amount of pressure to feel it all click.

Reached deep down and grasped for what she wanted. Wouldn't let go.

"Don't hold back, bastard" and she rolled her hips. Shook through him. Tumbles of a lock coming undone.

What did it matter if she ran with it.

The way she looked at him. He'd give it all for free.

Breath from his lungs. Blood from his veins. Every thought in his mind, and all the want to feel anything more in their wrap and press. Tangled and slick with so much more than sweat.

How she whittled away at him. Scrape after sinless scrape. Her rasp of breath and rumble of voice sweet agonies he gladly welcomed as the crush of her waves left no room to hide. Solid as he was, she drew him in the deeper with each pulse there at the end of each wet smack of thighs and ass, slap of sack and cunt.

His head rolled. And how smooth her hands had slipped over tender throat. Breath fast with want for her to squeeze.

Breaths in tight grunts, loosed to lower moans of amber sound. What fire he was, hot and biting with its ravenous hunger, turned to whimpering lick and spittle of sparks that popped up and down the whole of him. Spread and pooled like golden fire come through fresh split. A gasp for air there at the twist of pain above his heart, the gentle wrap of fingers round his neck. Press of lips that brought breath back to his lungs. Stole that too.

"Fuck!" choked out a smoke of a croak and the shiver and shake ran cold lightning down his spine. His eyes burned bright, full with the sight of hers. Up taint all quiver and tremble. Spine stretched to snap as heels set to tap down hard plant. Legs all flex as his cum spilled out. And out in white hot throbs that felt like hard knocks. A mind thumping gush that had both his hands at her hips clawing to pull her all the damned way down.

Breath in his lungs but a ghost she could gladly take.

Easy as his hands go on, lazy up that spine. Those bones. "Silk," he whimpers with eyes shut soft. Head fell toward her. Close to rest he had found, there in that cold shiver and shake. Pulse of his heart there at the end of him, so twisted and tied. Red ribbons, golden light dancing about them and the dark shadows that'd borne witness.
 
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He chases this zenith and catches it in his abdomen, the pulse of his cock, and the emission. He ruts his leavings further into her with a great gasp. As the intensity faded, Silk eased her movements to a gentle stop. Their joining spills from the seams of their union, down his balls, his inner thighs, onto the chair. She felt Zalan's body tremble beneath her, felt it echo in herself too. His whimpers felt so raw. Damp locks at his temple stuck to her collarbone where he rested.

She wrapped her arms more firmly around him, pulling him close against her, pulling him close until his head settled heavy on her shoulder. The weight of him, raw and spent, pressed into her like truth, unarmored, unguarded. Her fingers carded gently through his hair, smoothing out the tangles as she held him steady. She looked down at him. At the man who’d grinned with a knife to his throat and asked for more.

"I've got you."

She’d been carved out by hunger and hard choices, whittled down to sharp edges and cold silence. But her hands were soft where once they’d only known how to cut, steal and take. She hadn’t meant to let it be soft. But here they were, in the wreckage of their heat and need, and she held him like he mattered. Maybe because he did? Her hand moved in slow, steady circles down the line of his spine. Her hands, calloused from years of rope, lock picks, blades and back-alley fights, moved slow now. Careful. Tender in a way she didn’t know she had in her.

The candlelight guttered low, flickering shadows up the mudbrick walls. The only sound was breath, hers and his, still uneven, still loud in the hush. Her thighs were sore, and her dark hair was clinging to her brow and jaw. She eased him gently to sit back. Then rose. The ache in her hips told her just how human she still was. She pulled on her trousers, left them laced loose.

“That was... Felt right. All of it.”

Silk didn’t mean to go this far, but she didn't regret it.
 
A bounce of a laugh there as his lungs pulled deep trembling breaths. A shiver races up the spine as it all spilled out in that tender after. The hot and cold tingle of sticky wet trails run down turtling cock. Spilled down thighs and over the swell of his sack. He squirmed in a jolt of delight.

What a fucking mess. He thought, in strange and dreamy bliss. Stuck together. Arms and legs snaked and coiled and so damned close that he could still feel her beating there against him like a drum. Everywhere they touched. Could hear that gentle breath that worked through her lungs, and made her feel all the lighter with each swell. Fragile as his own.

It terrified him. How real it all was.

"I've got you," and she just chased that away. Brought a low and satisfied rumble up from his core that shook through his chest. He nestled there against her shoulder. Savored the run of her fingers through his hair.

Hard edges of her touch traced so soft their lines over the hills and valleys of his flesh and bone. All across his back, like some spell. Some claim. Silk, fierce enough to spring from some shadow to strike down any mother fucker that wanted to test it.

Hungry fire he was, he took it all in with a stupid grin. A show of teeth that was all for him, and had his cheeks ache so good. A breath shuddered through him, and his arms held tight whatever this was they had just found together. Felt her shift, and let her go as she gently set him back.

The cold there where she had been, so quick to grab him. He watched her slip back into her trousers. Half his grin still carved across his lips. Bent down and picked up one of the shreds of his skivvies. Wiped himself down.

“That was... Felt right. All of it.”

"Right as rain," voice a tired rasp. He looked at the fabric a moment, went on dabbing the mess up off the chair. He peered up from his little chore. "You still got me?" A tease there. Warm as a the first first hints of a summer storm.

He tossed the rag, bent low to grab his own trousers off the ground. Slipped into them as he got up.
 
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Silk had just pulled one of the clean bandages from her satchel, fingers stained dark with dried blood and the mess of everything they'd just spilled between them. She turned back toward Zalan, crouching, her tunic loose around her shoulders, clinging too damp places. She glanced up, met his eyes just for a beat.

He looked at her, crooked grin still smoldering, and said, voice all tease “You still got me?” But before she could even answer, a sharp voice cut the air: “NO!” The half-elf, curled in his shelf-bed like a kicked dog. Blanket hauled up to his chin, face flushed in the lantern glow. Sharp. Furious. Half-shaken. His cheeks burning with something between embarrassment and panic.

She smirked. “Easy..” she hushed. “Just tending his wounds.” She pressed the rag to his ribs and wiped careful, as if she hadn’t just been the one putting the wounds there. The half-elf grunted and turned over.

Gods, what she wouldn’t give for a proper bath now. Hot water. A bar of soap, that didn't smell like mold. But water didn’t sit long in a place like this. Went foul. Turned rank. She did her best to ignore the feeling of what was running down her inner thighs. Silk rose to her feet as Zalan got up, with a few measured steps, she turned to the table, eyes lingering on her scattered things. Weary hands began to gather them one by one.
 
Zalan stared at the Kid a moment. Lips pursed, brow quirked as if he turned some coin over the knuckles of his thoughts. Clicked his teeth. "The fuck's his problem," he muttered beneath his breath. Eyes pulled away by the sway of Silk's hips.

Felt right, huh?

He touched at the fresh bandages she'd spent on him. He stepped in her wake. Measured, still he stopped close behind her. Hands raised a moment as she worked. Hovered just a breath. Put palms on her shoulders. Would work what ease he could into chords that seemed to coil tight again, if she let him. Work them down and down those lines again.

"I can clean you up, if you'd like," he said, low rumble between them. Hands down by the loose hem of her trousers. Hooked thumb there with a tug to bring her toward him. Kissed the crook of her neck. And licked up the red trail of bites that marked her, slow like. "Then," a kiss behind her ear. "Rest?" a nuzzle against her mess of hair. "Leave the business till the mornin,"
 
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She felt him before he said a word.

The hairs on her neck knew he was there before he’d even touched her. Thieves didn’t survive long without that kind of sense. Knowing when someone was at their back, usually it meant steel, or something worse.

Instinct didn’t die easy. It hissed: Too close. Too close. Too close. For half a heartbeat, her body wanted to twist, to elbow, to vanish into the shadows.

Silk paused in her task, her hands stilling as Zalan's palms settled on her shoulders. A soft exhale escaping as his fingers began to work their way down her muscles.

She let him draw her close, that gentle pull at the waist of her trousers. Felt his mouth at her neck, his words curled like smoke into her mind. She leaned back slightly into him, the lick along her warm, salty neck sent a shiver through her, and she tilted her head. Her body fitting easily into his.

“Yeah,” she murmured. A bit raw. “Sounds good.”
 
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She eased into him, and the sway of his hips eased back. All gentle bump of plump muscle and easy press of bone. Playful. Tender. No lack of desire in the little dance against the table. A rhythm to a song they might have stepped to, had their lives crossed down another road.

"Good," he echoed in a whisper. Pressed his lips against her nape. Raked teeth wide over the tang of iron, salt, and bitter smoke. Plied a trail from right to left that ended at the base of her neck. Mouth hung open, felt breath swirl betwixt the fraction of his bruised lips and her silvered scars. Let his teeth run over the well of that spine just above her shoulders.

His fingers grabbed at the hem of her tunic, and he eased it up. Peeled his lips off her skin, so prickled by goose flesh, and tingly with soft hair. "Let's get you out of this ugly thing, first" began to peel it off, careful and easy. Was glad when the greedy fucking thing was gone. Would burn it first chance he got. Wasn't his though. So it would have to wait.

Stuffed the tunic onto the table with a rattle of the knives and picks, hooks and chains. Left hand fell to her shoulder. He huffed, her between the hollow of his arms and chest, his spine curled like a hungry dog's as he looked over the plane of her back, and all those things he had felt, and only now just saw.

The kiss of knives. The gouge of arrows, wicked flash of burns, and the breaks that had healed rough. His fingers were already tracing them. One by one, as they worked back down to her waist. His lips smacked a trail down her spine. Tongue licked at all those hurts it could find, while his beard scraggled and scratched.

He took a knee, then two. Kissed at those dimples at the base of her spine. Fingers tugging at the hem of her pants. He burried his nose against her with a shake of his head. Looked up that long road he'd went down, to spy her over the swell of her shoulder, let his mouth hang just under her ass. "Turn around, please," he grinned.
 
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Her tunic hung like a crime half-covered over her, clinging damp to her back. It had gotten new stains now, salt from her skin, smudges of earth, a streak of someone else's blood near the collar.

He pulled the stinking tunic over her head, revealing the sleek lines of her body. Sinewy muscles threaded beneath the milky pale, scar-flecked skin, her body was honed from years of scaling rooftops, squeezing through iron bars, and sprinting across slick cobblestones.

As he were trailing down her skin, every brush of hair and lips erased any clear thoughts. Soon not a word existed in her. Silk was just a body, had never been so much body before. Dragging shivers in his wake until her breath grew slow and heavy, each inhale was hunger. She could feel her pulse like a second heart between her legs.

She hooked her fingers into the waistband of her trousers, sliding them down slowly over her hips and thighs. The fabric pooled at her feet, and she stepped out of it effortlessly.

The half-elf let out a sharp scoff, more breath than sound. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered, not even looking their way.

A sharp turn of his shoulders, a rustle of old wool as he flung himself arround, to face the wall. He yanked the blanket over his head. Hoping it could shield him from the other two.

With a small smile, Silk obliged Zalan's request, turning slowly to face him. The golden glow of the wax candles highlighted the gentle swell of her breasts and the flat, toned plane of her stomach. Her thighs were still slick with the warm, sticky remnants. Curious, she bit her lower lip lightly.

Yes.
 
If Zalan had heard the Kid, he made no sign of caring.

Mercenary that he was, he knew you took what you wanted, while you still had the breath to take it. A life time in camps, and on the march didn't leave you much room to be shy. Nor did the Crucible before that. But that was a whole other type of desperate he did not need to think on. Not now.

Silk's trousers slipping off like a breathy whisper. Practically thumped in his ear when they hit the ground. Had his grin grinning all the wider. Warmth in his gut pooling. Blood flowing in pumps he felt all the way through the tips of his fingers and toes as she turned.

"Now there is a sight," he said through pursed lips, that hovered so near to her beating want. But it was the little bite of her lip that had set him stirring. Like a fiend, bent low and luring beneath her. His greedy eyes wanted to take in all they could, and his tongue felt fat in his mouth. That gentle slope of pert breasts, the strong lines of her core, solid as iron, and yet, soft with easy breath.

He wanted to taste her. Eat her. But he had a job to do.

He set his eyes down to the scene between her legs. All cling, stick, and drip. Licked his lips, and laughed a small thing behind his teeth, leaned closer. "Can't have that," he purred against her skin. Kissed at her knee.

His hands wrapped about the sides of her thigh, one slid up to push at her stomach, back against the table with a thunk and rattle of the knives. His fingers splayed and grabbing with slow wants as they explored those parts of her that fucking tunic had hid, as his lips kissed inside her right thigh. Worked his way around the swell of muscles he had already felt work so hard. Gave the left leg some love. A little bight nearer to the inside.

He peered up to spy her with a turn of the head, let hot breath spill out. Let his eyes come shut. Dug himself back in, slow. He used his nose to guide her legs open, nudged left, then right, just the wider. Kissed flush at the inside of tender flesh. Moved up, and kissed at the beads of wet evidence that had dripped down the furthest from her hungry cunt. He kissed another bit of the mess. Licked his way up to let his nose run against her slick folds. Took in a breath full of salt, tang, and hot funky desire. Shift to start lapping clean the other thigh.
 
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And business in the morning...
But tonight?

"All yours."

She stumbled back, her hip bumping against the table with a thud. The table gave a reluctant groan as it shifted behind her, legs scraping against the packed earth floor. Her hand slammed hard down onto the rough tabletop as she caught herself for support. Her legs parted. She gazed down at him, his face buried between her thighs, his eyes gleaming with that wicked hunger. A fiend feasting at her feet, utterly devoted to devouring her. The sight thrilled her and it built a fierce, pulling vortex in her belly that radiated outward.

Right now, it was all about the moment. A moment with an incredible man. A man with the most fascinating jasper eyes. Eyes that drew the thief's gaze like two magnets. A light grey gaze full of anticipation.

His lips tickled as they began to climb up her thigh. She kept looking down at him with an eager gaze. Each lick erased the sticky trails of their earlier frenzy, but left behind his trace, salted on her skin and fading slow. Blood rushes down to her sex at an almost unhealthy rate, and for a moment, she feels almost dizzy with arousal.

He seemed to deliberately avoid the throbbing center where she needed him most. The torment made her squirm, her body aching with unfulfilled desire.

Silk's mouth is half open and every little movement he makes with his mouth makes her exhale a moan. One of her hands landed on his head. Her fingers intertwined in his dark hair. When he reached a point that was extra sensitive, she announced it by gently pressing him down again. A little pressure from her fingers and his lips and tongue were once again on her body. Her body twitched under the tip of his nose.

When he moved over to the other leg. A shiver of impatience ran through her body. "You're.. mhhmm... such a tease... ahh.."

Frustrated and desperate, Silk's hand tightened in his hair, tugging firmly to pull him closer, her hips tilting toward him in a plea.
 
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A quiver, and pull there in the haze of heat. Each pound of blood he could feel from her through his fingers and tongue had his nose flair the wider. Pull intoxicating breath down deep into his lungs so good he felt it run up all tingle and throb through his cock.

His hand had snaked it's way up her ribs. His fingers splayed about the swell of her right tit. Cupped it tender, and squeezed. Nub of nipple caught betwixt middle and pointer knuckles that tweaked in his greedy grasp.

"Yeeeah," he pushed his breath out, hot against her inner most thigh. His tongue lolling between teeth like a wild cat who scented it's next meal. Nudge and licked there, against tendons and nerves so near her base.

Her hands mussed up his hair. Grabbed and pulled at him.

He liked that. Liked it more when she tugged him close and opened herself all up to him. "I'm the worst," he cooed there against her. Words pressed where her leg creased against the plain of her pelvis. Let his cheek bone run against the wanton wetness that puckered and pulled so sweetly at him.

He wanted her mark on him. Her scent. Electrified. He felt her hairs scratch sinful rakes across his nose as he dragged it over her field of dark bristles. pressed his lips there against the swell of her folds. Took a nibble at her outer lips. Ran his tongue flat against the run of her sticky slickness, up with the curl of her rocking hips until his mouth felt her swollen bud there neath the rasp of his tongue and press of his lips.

He lapped that up too. Light, and heavy licks. Teased with a careful play of teeth. Listened and felt for what she seemed to like.

"All... " he pant between plies of his tongue and shift of his neck. Slipped a shoulder under the hook of her leg. "Mine," he rumbled as he peered up again, grin too wide, too pleased, as he let fingers run up. Gentle as they felt the viscous pull and pulse of her cunt's coiling need. Pulled out of the sticky mess that coated more than just knuckle and pad. Licked his fingers clean. Worked them back in, careful as they searched and pressed against the gratifying scrape of frills.

Watched with fire lit eyes from his place down low. Toothful smile peering over her plains. Impish delight full there in the darkness of his gaze as he'd watch her burn for him.
 
As he slid his hand over her body, she let out a shuddering sigh. By the time Zalan buried himself between her legs, her breath came out in shallow gasps. Her fingers gripped tightly around strands of his hair, just behind the back of his head, and she moved his mouth to where she wanted it to be. Her moans got louder. He pushed her nearer and nearer to her limit. She felt her knees go weak under his tongue.

A blissful heat spread through her body. "Yeah…" Her hips rocking against his face. Silk wanted him to drop the facade of gentleness he had, and eat her like he owned her. Her voice became hoarse. Silk clung to him, her fingers digging into his scalp. Good gods, he is fucking talented...! At times, her grip pulled at his scalp almost convulsively, conveying just how good this was. She wanted him more and more and more. Zalan's mouth and tongue drugged every cell of her body. How soft his mouth was.

He hoisted her leg effortlessly over his shoulder, pinning her firmly against the wooden table with the weight of his head buried between her thighs, her legs splayed wide to accommodate his insistent presence. The table's edge dug into her lower back. She leans her body over the table, one hand on the tabletop to keep herself upright. Her heartbeat pounded so hard in her, it felt like someone was hitting her with a war-hammer.

Zalan continues to look up at her, his eyes wide, and she couldn’t look away even if her life depended on it. Entranced by his burning gaze. Longing for what she didn't have, and right now, she craved him. Everything inside her was twisting together. All the emotions. Every part of the spectrum. Every nuance. Heat, anxiety, desire, loneliness. Everything gathered and rolled out like lightning in the nerves that branch out into her muscles. Her climax was so close she could feel it in the tips of her toes she was balancing on. Every breath turned to shallow, loud gasps as his fingers delved deeper, lapping with rhythmic plies that made her thigh quiver against his neck. There was salvation in his touch; he took her sins away from her and gave her new ones instead.

A thin layer of sweat glistened over her body. Every little muscle tensed. He leans his wet cheek against her thigh and brings his fingers up to his mouth. Looking straight into her eyes with a somewhat ambiguous look, it said first and foremost "look how fucking much I want to taste you". It drove her crazy. Crazy because he no longer ate or touched her. Instead, he put his fingers in his mouth and licked them clean. Sucked in her taste. He made her body so sensitive that his breath almost hurt. With his wild gaze and grin he dragged her down into some burning inferno of lost control. "You.. fucking.. devil.." she slurred. Can't take it anymore.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She almost screams. She couldn't get any wetter or more swollen. She throws her head back but manages to push it back up again thanks to sheer willpower. She has to see. She just has to. Those eyes.
 
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