Thalos is grinning like a schoolboy who just learned what a thong is. His cheeks are flushed, his shirt is somewhere behind the couch, and a pair of boxers is all that stands between him and full nudity. A half-empty wine bottle sits in his lap like a sleepy pet.
Across from him, Lilith stretches like a cat, slow and smug, as she slides one strap of her black lace bra off her shoulder with a dramatic flair. Thalos gasps audibly, almost reverently.
Elsuana watches them both with narrowed eyes, trying to remember how this game is supposed to work.
"Wait," she says, her voice a mixture of scandalized and intrigued. "Can someone explain the rules again?"
Lilith waves a hand lazily. "The rules are: drink and strip. That's it. The cards are just props now."
Thalos, blinking blearily, lifts a queen of hearts and nods solemnly. "I think I just declared war on someone."
Lilith snorts and tosses her bra across the room. "Then surrender, general. The war is over."
