Daisy watches, and she listens. Her tongue swipes over her own lips to catch any taste of Erin that remains. She swallows.

She remembers the elevator keenly, of course, but she hadn't cared to worry then. She'd torn into her with no care for safe practices, just bloodlust and lust and a fair helping of impotent rage. Things are... different, now.

She shifts. Presses a bare knee, exposed by in her shorts, between Erin's thighs as she leans over her. "I'm going to break this thing. Make you bleed for me. Make you drink your drink. And then I'm going to fuck you until you barely remember who's name you're moaning. And then— then we can do all your mushy stuff. Alright?"

She'll take care of her. Even if putting it like that is the only way she can make herself promise it.