[She doesn't shy away when he draws closer, but instead takes the time to study him, the muscles under that tight polo shirt, hands capable and likely pretty callused under those leather gloves from sword use—

she thinks she'd like him to keep those on

—and when he voices his question, she merely widens her smile, still as serene and unhassled as can be. She's good at making her face look the way she wants it to.]

He told me you have very interesting tastes, sexually speaking. I couldn't help but investigate on my own. [Rose tilts her chin up and looks at his shades, past his shades, and she smirks.]

And the internet is so impersonal, don't you think?