It may be lacking in subtlety, but it is working. It's her, the products, this place. It gives one ideas and stirrings deep within.

"They do, indeed," he answers. "Both so deep and... vibrant. Alive." One hand comes up and lightly brushes a lock of her hair from her face, the metal cool against her skin, and it becomes clear he's talking about more than hues. He wonders why he is hesitating when all around them drown in the delights of the flesh in corners, in alcoves, in plain sight. Perhaps, again, it's her--it almost seems instinctive to follow this woman's lead.