[A part of her wants to press him further, to drag the rest of it out of him— but a much larger part of her is far too tired to do so, and instead she opts to trust him, to let him tell her what he wants whenever he feels he's ready. She nods slowly, her fingers curling to grip at the bedspread beneath her as if to anchor herself.]
Right. That's— that's what matters.
[The question that follows takes her by surprise, but she does manage a faint smile in response, touched by weariness.
It's sweet of him, really.]
Any way I can get it? [Even the half-hearted laugh that follows sounds tired, but she decides to offer him a more helpful response all the same.] Baked is always good— and probably easiest.
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Right. That's— that's what matters.
[The question that follows takes her by surprise, but she does manage a faint smile in response, touched by weariness.
It's sweet of him, really.]
Any way I can get it? [Even the half-hearted laugh that follows sounds tired, but she decides to offer him a more helpful response all the same.] Baked is always good— and probably easiest.