"Somehow," Ignis said, with an appreciative rumble that proved that that nip did not lose even an ounce of effectiveness for its predictability, "I feel as though that curiosity is quickly waning in its immediacy..."

And he, himself, did not possess any particular desire to divulge those thoughts, something that he felt Liliana undoubtedly knew. He would, of course, if she were to ask again, which she likely also knew, but as he turned his head to intercept wherever it was her lips might land next with his own (gently, carefully, slipping the mug out of her hands as well, to safely set aside), it was very clear that the conversation he intended to have first led them in a very different direction. The direction of chairs and floors and walls and railings, table and counter tops, too, but very clearly a conversation that needed no words at all, only the language of their bodies and the constant thrusting rhythm of their deliriously endless dance together.

Well.

Perhaps that conversation wasn't actually all that far removed from the other, after all.