"I have a few more in mind, though you were asking for one that applied to both Tybolt and I." And this must be quite what her cat is sensing, this distinct idea that he is no threat and means no harm, which makes it so easy to even admit such a thing to him.

Tybolt makes dismayed noise when she leans closer, but his hand so close to her cheek is all but an invitation to draw him into a kiss, and the cat will adjust. He does: he makes himself at home on Faramir's lap, evidently unwilling to let this whole scenario move even remotely toward the bedroom.

"I –" Her hand had fallen to his thigh, touching not the fabric of his trousers as expected, but the bare back of her cat, and suitably distracting her. "Should have raised him better." She means to lift him up, and he does not complain too soundly when he is placed upon the floor, and he wanders off with his tail held high – largely, and unbeknownst to her, so that he may consider a new angle of attack. "I also find you exceedingly, almost rudely attractive," she goes on with the previous thought.