[ some of her response is still a result of her hastiness, her tendency to act first and think later, but then that small piece that wants to be more honest with him about what she thinks sneaks in at the end, her voice softer and smaller than it normally sounds. but she also realizes at the exact same time that he might want, even need that honesty from her too, might need her to be upfront and not joke around in this instance.

in this moment, he looks nearly as vulnerable as she's ever seen him, and that includes the time he'd been laid out on her bed with a bandage wrapped around his injured middle. ]

Sick of you? [ she repeats it almost incredulously, and now she really is finding a burst of strength, pressing her hands to his shoulders to scramble up the length of him so their faces are closer. ] Sweetie, I want you here. As often as you wanna be. And look, it's not like I don't have the space for it now down here. You could get your own room and everything.