Addison's shirt hit the stone floor before anyone could form a coherent objection.
"Wait," Belle said.
Addison paused with her fingers on the second button, which was already undone because Addison's relationship with clothing operated on a consent-optional basis. "What."
"We haven't established parameters."
"Belle, I swear to God, if you turn this into a committee meeting I will manifest both scythes and cut this entire cliff in half."
"I'm not turning it into a committee meeting. I'm turning it into an organized experience with clear expectations and measurable outcomes." Belle had produced a small notebook from somewhere on her body that should not have been able to conceal a notebook, and she was already writing. "We have four hours of internal time thanks to the dilation. That's sixty minutes per person if we divide equally, which we should, because fairness prevents resentment and resentment prevents orgasms."
