Athessa lays on the bed, draped in the post-coital afterglow of Sidony's latest lesson. That is, if they can still be called lessons; the curriculum is unstructured, based on whims, and at some point they unspool into simple enjoyment, at least for Athessa. She hopes it is the case for Sidony as well, but the body and mind can often be at a disconnect.

Athessa lets her head roll to one side so she can look at Sidony. Her fingertips draw lazy patterns on the nearest slope of naked skin. The dress code here is non-existent.

"How do you feel about what we do together?"