[He laughs. Not at her, but it's -- it's oddly touching, telling him he may as well not expend the effort. What if he'd like to? Who doesn't enjoy writing pretty words for prettier women?]

I don't have to for anyone. Please believe I only ever do what I like in life.

[They're certainly reaching the same point. He sits there and his eyes flutter closed under her soft touch, his smile as permanent as if it was painted on. It feels extra wonderful, he thinks, because it is something in his scalp, all the way down his back. Casual and intimate all at the same time.]

You know, I feel it's a miracle you get anything done like this. [He opens his eyes again, and he is. Definitely leaning into the palm of her hand.] I would so easily desire to feel like this forever.