His finger continued making patterns and shapes along the skin of her upper back, his touch just light enough to be maddening.

"Practicing my astromancy," he answered plainly. Alyx grinned.

"On a foggy night with all the windows closed," she said, "Impressive."

"No need to see the sky," he explained, "Not when I have a map of the stars right here." He dragged several kisses over one shoulder blade. 

"That's a good line."

"I learn from the best," he kissed her shoulder again, this time lingering. 

Alyx melted deeper into the covers, stretching her arms out underneath the pillow to touch the headboard. Aymeric's fingertips smoothed back and forth over a portion of her back as if he were pacing slowly, retracing steps. Eventually he found the trail of her spine and followed it leisurely down below the bank of bedclothes--

"In fact, perhaps you ought to quiz me," he suggested.

--and back up to her nape where his grip curled into her hair.

"Quiz you? On the stars?" she wondered aloud, all but squirming from the tone of his voice alone. "Seems like you know what you’re doing without my help.”

She had no idea if he had actually been drawing distinct shapes and didn't care.

"Well," Aymeric drawled playfully, "I only know the Spear."

Alyx snorted into the pillow and he joined her in a tired but giddy chuckle. His hands were an inquiry and an invitation--she answered in kind.

"Well,” she said with an air of teasing gravity, “If you're thirsty I can help you find the Ewer.”

He laughed warmly and gave a firmer sweep of his palm down over the tired muscles of her back before trailing away. With an airy groan into the pillow Alyx squirmed in the blankets to roll over in pursuit. 

Aymeric was waiting and captured her happily in a kiss, slow and deep and dreamlike. They shifted and struggled lazily in the tangle of sheets until she could reunite her skin with his own--hot, soft, familiar. She curled into his embrace so easily, by instinct, comfortable as always even in every awkward clash of elbows. 

Hands found hands but only for a moment before his refused further distraction: gripping her thighs with the gentlest urgency he spread her legs and shifted low to follow the path along her center. He dragged his lips over her hip bones and further shrugged away the confines of the covers to reveal taut and golden shoulders. She marveled at the sight of him, ebony hair splashed all about her belly, the long tapered edge of one ear barely touching the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

He was done teasing: he bowed to her and she whimpered a laugh into her hand. 

"Nevermind," she breathed, "You know the way."

"By heart," he affirmed, and resumed drawing the constellations.