Malachy was in the jetty with his girlfriend, sitting on the couch in the small, cozy room. “You’re a deep thinker, right? I’ve got a question for you. Who makes the rules?” he asked “Who decides what’s ok? Who polices our instinct?”

But his girl just told him the question was boring and teased him. In response, Malachy lifted her into his lap and fished an ice cube out of her drink. “Give us a bit of that, then.” He chuckled as she squealed no and tried to stop him from getting the ice onto her skin.

“Yeah. You’re havin’ it!” he eventually managed what he wanted to do, pressing the ice cube against her skin under her collarbones. “See? Nice.”