[ Just as she has done on the mornings she wakes him, she softly teases the tip of her finger along his nose. ]

What a good life it's going to be.

[ God help her, she means it. She's known him all of a week and already she can see the clear path of her life with him in it, drunken, soggy mess that he is.

No one she dates - has dated - plays games with her. Every relationship has been so serious, as though adulthood requires the loss of fun. Even Ichabod, the one who was almost the One, never did anything just for the fun of it.

She keeps her voice low, even in this quiet hallway, tone soft and secretive: this is just for them. ]

This is your life now, think about that. If you're mine, you have to endure a lot of affection.

[ And you know what. What the hell. She winks back, a little mocking and exaggerated in turn. ]