            She pressed up. Closed the distance between them. Their lips met, bewilderingly soft for all the pressure in her head, her throat, her stomach. It was only an instant, before first her hand slid away, then her lips, then her body, backing into the jut of the window sill. Lucius’s hands lowered slowly to his sides, fingers clawed, like he was still clinging to her hair. "I will get your monitoring papers," she said softly, sadly. "But that’s all I can do for you."