"I know," she murmurs, idly dragging her thumb along his thigh. She doesn't sound disappointed; this whole gambit was one of those it's the journey, not the destination things. Has to be, because otherwise it's self-defeating.

And it doesn't matter, really; not for her sake. For his sake, she's still a little worried, because it's not her. (Because, in a way, maybe it is about her. Someone she has yet to become.)

She eases herself back towards him, stretching out alongside him, resting her head against his shoulder and absently tracing his collarbone with her fingertips.