[oh. . . warm fingers against his cheek. Mars feels heat gather on his face, and somehow he resists the urge to tilt his head into that warmth]

There isn't any, I guess.

[he, however, doesn't resist the urge to curl his fingers into the front of Lily's shirt. to keep him close, of course]

[and then there's a pause. a moment of silence that blankets over them, before Mars finally speaks]

. . . you know, games like this are why I didn't want to get close to anyone when I first got here.