[ Miracilous, that he could have such healthy color and physique, for a dead man. Muscle might come with their field of work, but what he has is ideal masculinity, to say the least. She's shamelessly dashing her tongue over her lips! ]

No, I truly don't think you can.

[ Meeting his gaze, she can make out his eyes at this distance - not in detail, she she can visualize them, anyway. Her hands, meanwhile, trail down the front of his torso, hoping she might memorize it with the same level of attention. ]

Nor do I believe that anything has - or ever will - compare to the way I feel, in this moment, with you.