"Well, I do have a pair of trousers that I tore in the garden a few days back..." For the first time that day, a cheeky grin appeared on his face. The pain from before settled into a dull ache, and he could feel most of who he was come back, seeping through.

Most, of course.

The hand that traced her collarbone slid down further, grazing the boning of her corset before his hand finally rested against her hipbone. It was a bit like a dance. She placed her hands on his shoulders, he slid his hand along her skin, and they repeat, move forward, step apart.

He wished he knew all the steps beforehand. Then again, that would've made the dance less thrilling, knowing every step in it.