It’s a bit like sculpting, kissing Pearl. Rose never has of course -- sculpted, that is -- but something in the way Pearl goes altogether supple in the brow, in the voice, in the well-formed angle of her jaw… a bit like shaping warm clay, each time Rose deepens the touch, with a swivel of chin: cool and unhurried, like a kiss underwater.

Tonight, though, she finishes quickly and sweetly: punctuated with a teasing little nibble on Pearl’s lower lip before she ducks away, grinning. Tempting. It’s tempting, to just… convince Pearl to forget why she even came here tonight. For at least half an hour or so.

But Rose has her moments of self-restraint. She shifts back onto her knees, pulling away -- offering Pearl a hand to sit upright. “I suppose I ought to let you shower someday.”