The humming's a cute touch. Freya'll have to ask what that was, later, when there weren't more important things at hand. Maybe Pen would sing it for her.

Her lips press and move against Pen's, rough and utterly chapped. Like Freya and her smiles tonight, it's more subdued than usual, but there's not a shred of hesitation or reluctance. The arm around Pen's back moves, stroking a hand idly up and down her spine, while the other curls further around her hips and pulls her closer.