[ Alec's eyes half-close serenely when Aisha grabs hold of his face, canting forward to hold his weight in his toes without even thinking about it. His lips part slightly when she squishes him, his tiny smile twitching them up higher at the corners.

He likes her hands. He likes how sure they are about everything, and her shaped nails lightly scratching his scalp when she feels like playing with his hair, and the way it's easy to tolerate her putting them wherever she wants. ]

I could use my power to make you.

[ He points out, pulling his sleeve over his hand and then doubling it up again, an action that tugs his collar over to dig into his neck where the biggest scar there is, and casually uncovers the speckles of smaller ones dappling his right shoulders. ]

And I'm not sure you sound sorry? Kind of sounds more like you're trying to brainwash me?

[ He steps back just far enough to crouch without smacking his head into her on the way down, even if she probably deserves it, and pinches the still dully glowing key between two fingers wrapped in cloth. The heat cleaves through instantly, making him hiss faintly as he straightens up with far more urgency and hot foots it over to the door. He jams the key into the hole swiftly and whips his hand back, shaking it out with another little hiss. ]

Which is - fuck - which is terrible brainwashing. If I can tell you're doing it, it's barely half as effective. I don't know if this arrangement is going to work out.

[ With that, he bunches even more of his sleeve up, screws up his face a little, and plants his palm on the key to give it a twist. The door clicks, and he steps back, sweeping his unblistered hand at it. ]