She kisses him for a while, lingering and sweet, before releasing his mouth with a sigh and burying her face in his neck. The light is rose-gold through her closed eyelids. "I hate to suggest moving," she says lowly. "But we likely should. And perhaps make use of the stream before we clothe ourselves once more."

They are both of them sticky with sweat, her hair clinging to his skin as well as hers.