[ Venom understands it. The sinking feeling in Angela's stomach that her curiosity here, a thirst for discovery that comes naturally to a scientific mind, serves no social benefit. No benefit, in her mind, besides her own edification. But is it really such a bad thing, to want to understand this new part of herself? Is it selfish to desire to learn what this is, attaining mastery over it through knowledge?

As Angela shifts her weight to lean on the figure behind her, this does not equal a subsumption into Venom's amorphous mass. But the proximity she achieves by pressing against him gives her the exact warmth that she notices. The warmth, perhaps, of belonging. By this time, Venom had already let go of her wrists, having only taken them to catch her attention and disrupt her attempts to busy herself. Replacing one trance, it seems, with another: the symbiote's pull.

By the time Angela asks her question, Venom places his hands on her hips. There is no erotic caress here, but a seeming desire to hold her steady. A means of keeping her from getting any closer, but also from going no further. ]

Yes. But not unbearably so.

[ Venom continues looking down at Angela out of curiosity, watching for the minutest change in her expression. What, after all, does this extended tension bring to the surface? What, within her, is waiting to burst? ]

You'll be reminded of what you do not have when you're without it.

Fortunately... we are not very far. We could be a hell of a lot farther.

But if you think this is warm, you must understand.

[ Carefully, Venom relinquishes one of his hands from its place on Mercy's hip. His fingers gravitate to the bedsheet in front of them, patting down parts of it that needed flattening. After doing so, the hand lingers, as if in contemplation of the very bed that it touches. ]

We can be warmer.

You must tell us if that's something you're ready for.

Something you... desire.