She looks different like this. Sweat covered, hair fraying out of its braids, lips pulled back in a small but genuine smile. It's nice. Different... but nice.
Slowly her smile fades to be replaced by a different expression. This one is harder to read. Her dark eyes are locked onto you, her lips slightly parted, almost as if she's waiting for something. It occurs to you that your faces are still close, bodies locked together.
It seems to have occurred to her as well.
Yes," she whispers and reaches up to touch the side of your face, gently stroking your skin.
"Is this okay?" she echoes your question.