Somehow losing my head whole to a fruit-hungry D seems like one of the more unpleasant ways to die. If just for the tombstone. "He lost his head over fruit. One time too literally."

[Grins, checking her out from the hair flip. Hey it's reflex. And he hums something softly, eyes dancing in amusement again as he tries to settle on a good quip to return it with. In any case, she's definitely right. Though that's only one of a thousand reasons.] So long as we're a perfect pair with it. Just remind me to set a safety word later. Then again, I always did prefer to live dangerously. [Kidding? Serious? Some crazy combination of both? Who knows.]