[ She lets him pull her in close — only to press her hand flat against his chest and shove him up against the bulkhead, closing that small distance quick so she can nudge her thigh between his. Apparently she doesn't mind the mud and blood. ]

What makes you think there's going to be a second time?

[ Honestly, she should be mad he even brought up the possibility — or at least make a show of being mad. But her heart's still beating fast from their escape, and the reckless part of her just wants to ride that high as long as it lasts. It's been a long time since she's felt this good. So her words lack the bite of a real reprimand — the edge is a mocking one, taunting instead of scolding. When she smiles, it's just a little mean. ]

You figure you're gonna convince me to stick around or something?