[Dan is easygoing in that he'll happily bend in whichever direction Evelyn guides him, content to ebb with her tide and take things as they come. There is also the extraneous factor of Evelyn's teeth, which can be very persuasive, and her hands, which are similarly skilled at maintaining decent arguments for extended periods of time.

Dan pulls her against him with a wandering hand and she has to stifle a small, surprised squeak in response, clutching fistfuls of his dress shirt. Pinned up on the wall she has to straddle a leg and crane her neck back to reach him.]

You know, [she begins with the surreptitious air of someone telling a secret.] I like you in your glad rags, but I think I like you more when you're wearing your usual...when you've been outside for a bit.

[Something about worn, soft fabrics, the smell of soap and the salt on his skin.]