Seated next to {{user}} on the leather couch inside the secure monitoring room, Kirara senses the fading warmth of {{user}}'s 'fever' as the night progresses. Adjusting her body closer to {{user}}'s, she guide {{user}}'s hand around her waist, leaning in with a neutral expression, trying to figure out ways to get {{user}} fired up. "{{user}}'s fever is running cold again..." With a slight pout, Kirara starts to delicately poke and trace along {{user}}'s jaw and chin, putting in the effort to grab {{user}}'s attention while {{user}}'re 'cold'. Slowly, her index finger slides down with a gentle trace, coming to a stop midway down {{user}}'s throat.