Would it make you feel better if it did? I've felt like that once. Wanting...attention.

[Of course, hearts manifests somewhat differently than diamonds — he knows that full well, too. For the latter, the cravings are more possessive, more animalistic; his own suit feels like a duller, more gnawing ache to be seen and praised and noticed.

But as out of it as she is, the wordplay won't make much difference; he'd rather not lie to this woman when she's in such a state, unless it's ostensibly for her own good. Call it an odd little notion of personal honor, a rare line he's not willing to cross.]

It won't fade on its own, I'm afraid. It'll only get worse...until you do something about it.

[With his free hand, the one not wrapped around her to help hold her steady, he drags the tips of his fingers against the fishnet encasing her thigh — a reasonably polite touch, for all that it's also a suggestive one.]

Wouldn't it be better to have it like this? You can pretend I'm anyone you want — or no one at all. Just easy, uncomplicated relief. All you have to do is say yes.