He shifted and Hild took the opportunity to shift herself into something slightly more comfortable. By the time he had settled back against the couch, and her, bottle in hand, she had pulled her legs out from under her. One remained crooked on the sofa, but the other she wove between his, barefoot under his thigh, knee bent only so high that he could use it as a place to rest the bottle. Her skirt shifted in the movement, but this was more comfortable, too. The slide of fabric from knee to thigh was a subtle invitation, should he wish, should they get that far, should there be another sort of wrestling in mind.

"We drink," she agreed, smiling a soft, warm smile, of fondness and gentle care. "Deeply. And then we spend the evening however you like, even being angry." Though she hoped that that would not be the fullness of their time tonight.