There's a tiny, barely audible crack from beneath them as the bed frame splits in half, which would send Eirene into a fit of giggles if she were in a sharper frame of mind. As it is, all she can do is lie there underneath her lover --lover!-- and try to remember what lungs are good for.

Oh, yeah. Breathing.

Eventually a hand slides down Clark's neck to cup his cheek, joined by her lips a few moments after that, which is really the extent of her motor skills right then.

Softly, "S'agapó..."