The woman's assurance that she has not played such a game before is met with only further confusion, fathomless dark gaze narrowed in some attempt to understand as he continues to rest near atop her. His mentality is far removed from the norm, fractured mind attempting to piece together these things she says before her mention of his swimming sees his eyes narrow darkly once more.

"I can.....swim."

The he has, never before, mentioned any ability to swim let alone displayed it is surely a shocking thing, the point the woman is trying to make perhaps lost upon her, her fear of something he simply does not fear failing to compute, her attempts to liken it in a fashion he may better perceive resulting in nothing short of a truthful answer all the same as he regards her. That she might find such a game scary has never occurred to him, his experience with such a thing decidedly pleasant and as such he fails to make this connection, his ability to perceive emotion limited at best as he simply continues to stare towards her.

"Game is...not scary."

Of this he is sure, head nodded in further agreement of such a point before the woman attempts to explain the matter of first and second, his dark eyes watching her with ready wariness as if he somehow suspects her answer may well be suspicious in some form. Her example of first and second however, seems to delight the boy as her earlier one had failed to do so, a snicker of sorts rising within his chest as his lips pull into a ready grin.

"Everybody....likes kissing but....I am....very good at it."

That he is 'very good' at almost everything he does has surely become clear to the woman by now as he regards her still, assured that her need to wait can hardly be longer then tonight, her assurance that they must wait until 'one day' only seeing fit to confuse him all the more. Handsome features contort readily into a scowl once more, frustration pulling readily at his mind as one hand lifts to run fingers though the black locks of his hair, scratching at the back of his neck in a mimicked action stolen from Tetradore himself as he continues to look down on the woman.

"Which day?"

It is innocence alone that sees such questions asked, the boy decidedly specific, vagueness often lost upon him along with sarcasm and metaphor. His mind is direct, simple to some extent and as such he desires an exact answer, oblivious as to why one cannot be supplied despite his inability to understand time all the same. His attention however is readily distracted, focused instead once more upon the woman beneath him, an entirely new idea seeming to have formulated within his cunning mind as his lips trail smoothly across her skin, the soft acceptance of such a thing hardly missed as she offers it, only further assuring the young man he is doing entirely as he should. He pauses only to meet her gaze once more, teasing at the hem of her shirt, grinning readily towards her when she finally seems to release the breath she is holding and allow him to remove the shirt, slipping it up and easily over her head to toss it aside.

The scars that litter her form are seemingly invisible to him, his own mind incapable of truly acknowledging something that is so very normal to him after all, he sees scars every day, on everyone within the Ark and as such he offers them no true mind. He pauses only once more to reach for his own shirt, tossing it aside in much the same manner, offering the woman a view of his own toned figure. He is assured that this is how such things are done before his lips find her own again, chest brushing against her own, that sensation of skin on skin something far more engaging to him now. He moves to do as he did before, no longer hampered by her shirt, the skin beneath far more sensitive to his touch, seeming to intrigue the boy all the more as his lips brush lower and lower still- this time pausing at the hem of her jeans.

"See? It....is....good."

He nods, assured that it is all the same, making no effort to go further before suddenly and abruptly seeming to flip them, moving until Birdie herself is atop him now, snickering readily in delight at his game as lashings of dark hair fall into his gaze.

"Is your....turn now."

That this game surely involves turn taking is clear, though what he desires from her is perhaps less so, dark eyes simply looking towards her expectantly, far more willing to accept her touch then he is any other.

madness, as you know, is like gravity: all it takes is a little push