That final contact, Daniel decided, was cheating. He didn't detain her, but sticky fingers set the loose shirt askew on her shoulders again, infuriating enough that he wanted to pursue and fix it, something he was sure she'd intended all along. Bemused and beset by starry fantasies he hadn't indulged in for a while, Daniel drifted back over to the kitchen table, and sat down in his usual chair with one elbow over the chairback and his temple propped up on his fist. He didn't say anything with his silence, he just sat comfortably in it, not thinking of anything at all.