She was rummaging around in her drawers for something to wear to bed. She nodded back to him without looking, and grit her teeth. Standing, as she ground a pair of bottoms and a somewhat matching tank top, she turned to him, warring against her body. "I knew, sort of. I knew you would go, but I didn't know what you would be, didn't know<em>how</em>you would be." She shrugged and pulled the tight-fitting shirt over her shoulders, and stepped into the silk pyjama bottoms. There was no helping how whenever he spoke she grew warm, how she wanted so badly to go and wrap her arms around him, to remove every thread h'd put on and lay herself out for him, begging.<br/><br/><em>I didn't know you'd be so nice.</em>She turned back away, and contemplated her bed. Perhaps climbing in was not the best idea. Retrieving her only pair of boxers, she held the yellow silk out to him. He was far too dangerous nude. Heaving a sigh, she sat on the edge of the bed, her laptop screen glowing over her profile from her desk beside her bed. She hadn't bothered with lights. She knew what she had been looking for. The light from the bathroom filtered in through the door, and she admired the play of light over his muscles, powerless to top her hungry gaze.