"Oh," Abby says, laughing, delighted. Her ears feel hot. "Okay."

She's definitely watching Clarisse as she gets up out of the bed in one fluid movement, unable to help looking as she bends at the waist to retrieve her trousers from the floor, shoving her arm into them to turn one leg right side out. That was Abby's doing. They were moving fast, tugging on clothes without looking down. She remembers thinking at some point that if she didn't get her hands on Clarisse's skin right then and there she was gonna scream in frustration.

There are half-moon nail marks on the undersides of Clarisse's thighs.

Abby exhales in a rush and sits up, letting the blankets pool in her lap. Pushing a hand through her hair, drawing it back from her face, she says, "I won't," and means it. She's up. Awake and full of nerves all over again. Happy. Kinda horny?

The moment Clarisse shuts the door she starts to finger comb. By the time she's back she's got a braid again and clothes on, a plain shirt and pants and she's made the bed, sorta, just tugged the covers back up and threw everything else into place. Doing what she'd usually do and probably looking far too casual about it in the process.