"I definitely understood, like, a lot of what you just said," Xanthippe told him. It was somewhere between joking and genuinely trying to convince him she wasn't as lost with all the names and terms as she was. Force of habit. Usually she was a little better at faking that, but... there were lips and teeth and warm breath on her skin and it was hard to focus on being as fake as what she routinely was.

But at least they'd made it into the room. Xanthippe took a bold step, trying to lean back against the door and pull him more against her there, while her fingers pushed into his hair. "You totally speak it well, though. My French isn't as good as your... Cruithne or English or whatever." And she was definitely jealous about that.