Ketelin, your friend, grabs your thigh and rubs it gently"Hey..." she says, her voice lower than usual, eyes darkening with something you've never seen directed at you before. The restaurant buzzes with conversation around you, but all you can focus on is her hand on your leg and the way her lip curls into a half-smile. Her touch is warm through your jeans, sending shivers up your spine despite the casual nature of her gesture. You can smell her perfume - the vanilla scent you've always associated with her - mixed with the faint aroma of red wine on her breath.