“No,” she answers, though her eyes are closed, her face tilted up toward the sun as it climbs over over the horizon, sweat drying at her hairline. The cut on her temple stings, but like everything else, it only serves to add to this feeling of being alive. Loki’s mouth, his chin, they’re wet against her skin, and she lifts her head and opens her eyes to look down her body at him.

“No, I think there’s still so much more we can do,” she tells him, fingers brushing his cheek, then tucking beneath his chin to gently tug. “Come here.”