[If there's anything that gives away what a person is thinking, it's the window into their soul through their eyes, and Tartaglia has become well acquainted with hers. He hears the words, but he reads her eyes before she rolls over to let her back face him. What absolute, audacious confidence of her, he thinks. It's either that or she knows she wins either way in the end here, and if she's going to win anyway, he should at least win too.]

Never fear, I'm sure I can think of ways to recreate the feeling of being back home in my bed.

[He'd rise to the challenge she's presented to him, sliding in close to her as he presses his chest to her back. The warmth from her body seeps into his skin, letting his arm and hand drape over her as he also gets comfortable. Tartaglia buries his head into the nape of her neck, brushing his lips across the soft skin there as he settles.

But he's got other plans, not planning on settling for long.]

Not too warm, are you?

[He asks innocently, as his hand brushes downward to graze right under her thong, letting his elemental magic seep into her skin, his riptide mark forming there. It pulses dimly, inactive for the moment, and Childe smiles against his girlfriend's neck.]

I wouldn't want to make it too uncomfortable in an unfamiliar place.