And when you are as old as you are now? More than sixteen — or so I hope.

[That gets a laugh out of her, though — one she presses softly against his lips, withdrawing just enough to let it fill the narrow space left between them before she moves back in again.

It's only at length, however, that she sort of figures out what it is he's waiting for amid a small sweet series of kisses that go rapid enough that she's parting her lips a little more with each one. Then comes the quiet recognition of what he's waiting for, and she smiles a little to herself as she brings their mouths together again, this time with no way of mistaking the reason her lips are parting for him.]

You're so shy. Or perhaps just a gentleman.