Gotcha, he thinks, a warm wave of pleasure washing over him, and a small amount of satisfaction, because finally he's said something that, he senses, has done a little bit to her what she regularly does to him with what she says. Filled her up to the point where words don't feel like they entirely work, where he almost wants to hide in her until he can handle things again. Hide in her and feel broken open but safe.

He doesn't know if that's quite what this is, but he likes the thought that maybe he's made her feel even sort of that way.

"My girl," he whispers against her temple, and it's one of those times where the words are actually easy. "I love you so much."