One second she's grinning triumphantly against Luther's mouth, letting himself be silenced into kissing her, laughing into it, but not fighting her off having done it at all. The next, she's falling into the bed, with the unexpected rebound of the bed bouncing back up and Luther tumbling right down into her, too, all too long arms and legs everywhere.

There's not even enough time for Allison to fully take it all in, except that her heart is hammering in her ears, and Luther's hand is not warm and wide across the expanse of her stomach. While he apologizes. Like her entire mind isn't still three paces back caught like she'd been socked in the teeth with the idea of that hand there, without her shirt in the way. Luther's hand on her skin.

"Are you, though?" Thrown up at him above her, like the last thing in the world she could suppose him to ever be at the moment, or that he should ever even consider being at the moment, is sorry. It's more amusing than it is anything else. There's a bubble of laughter still caught up in her chest, even though it's deep-fried and burning along the edges in the feel of her mattress and blankets actually under her now, while Luther is close but not close enough anymore.

Allison hooked her heel on the bedframe and pushed on it, wiggling up over more of her bed, tugging him further on to it with her.