If Mira were concerned with what others might think before, the thought has faded in the face of the other girl's body pressed against hers, the arch of her hips as they both move; she lets her hand drop a little to rest against the small of the girl's back.

They could both be anybody, have any history right now, and she likes that, a little bit. Not thinking too hard about things.

"Well, the night's young," she replies, chewing on her lip over a smile and meeting her eyes.