"Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you?" she asks, squirming and laughing at the same time as he vibrates his lips against her skin. There's nothing at all wrong with him, nothing wrong with them, and she wraps her arms over Steve's where they're around her torso.

"I love you, too, even though you're a bloody weirdo," she says, sinking into his lap, leaning against his chest. She's comfortable here, with him, and that means so much to her. Maybe more than Steve knows.