She lets me wait for a bit, long enough to start me worrying. But then--her idiot? Well, I guess I can live with that.

Look up to see her blinking fast like she's trying to hold back tears. "Oh, sweetheart. No, just-just-" Why can't I talk properly? "Just your name, written kind of dark and curly."

There'll be time to talk about the ink later. I doubt she can fit me in right now. I set my mug down and go around behind her, sliding my arms around her waist. "Thank you, sweetheart."