Of course she roamed the halls, he could sense her stress. The thoughts that refused to let her drift into slumber and it only encouraged his figure to give rise toward a silhouette from behind. Gloved hands already extended toward squared shoulders, tightened beyond their years with a stress born of the darkest sins conceived. Yet still she remained, the resolute commander, the master.
It had been enough to bring life into curious features as digits finally met fabric. Thus they encroached, only one layer, the layer of the jacket which still clung to her. The same fabric that wrapped her from the very eyes of others whom may deem her limited purely for her sex.
Kneading, pads intentionally sought tension, released it, meshed it with the loosest of musculature without even unsettling her form from its prone position at the window she'd taken her roost upon. And yet his voice finally purged the darkness, his gaze fixated on the glass before him.
Echoing, lips curled in their mirth before palms released themselves from her shoulders for the purest sake of seeming harmless. Finally he uttered his own state of recognition for her thoughts to distract themselves with.
"Would you join me for yet another stroll with the night?"