[ She turned in his arms, elegantly agile, the ship's railing pressed against her back. Jessamine assessed him, hands smoothing up his chest (and it's as though she's eager for touch, starved for it, for sensation), her slim fingers finally latticing together behind his neck. ]

Emily. [ The name stuck in her throat, soft and low. She seemed to force herself straight, though he could feel that she wanted only to curl in on herself. Instead, she seemed to settle for the middle ground; kissed the corner of his mouth, lightly, the wind making their dark hair mingle about them, and tucked her face near his neck, cheek on his shoulder. As if it were the last safe place in the world for her. ]

Tell me about her. Everything you remember. I could... sense... but never see.