"You underestimate me," he said with a grin. "I'm quite the formidable foe. I'd have you conquered in moments, Oswin." He dropped the pillow back on the couch where it belonged, then looked back at her. "How old is "too old for pillow fighting", exactly?" From where he came, asking a woman's age didn't carry the same cultural taboo as here, though he couldn't have known that it did. Still, he wanted to hear her answer.
"And if not pillow fights," he continued. "Then what?" It was clear he was serious about knowing what she'd do here, too. He glanced around the apartment, trying to imagine what he'd do, if he were her. The immediate thought that came to mind wasn't quite proper.