She shivered as his hand slid into her hair and stuck her tongue out at him as well. She pressed his eyebrows inward. “Maybe,” she laughed. “And screw the blacksuits. Who cares if they shit bricks,” she repeated. Her heart raced. She never really went against Furnace or any of its staff. If anything, she was probably the best-behaved. The only interaction with the warden had been when she first arrived, but even then it wasn’t like they shook hands or something. She ran her hand up his other arm, the one not tangled in her long hair. “I want to have fun,” she seemed to purr. Then she flushed a darker shade. Where had that come from?