[ Her eyes slip briefly shut, smile soft. Maker knows they've fought about this--this narrow focus of his, the apathy it leaves over for the rest of the world. ] It's hard to object when you put it that way.

[ She lays her palm flat on his chest for a moment, and then slides her hand around his side, tugging him nearer so she can tuck her face somewhere around his collarbone. ]

Does it bother you that I don't do that? Most of what I do is things you'd never choose.