ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍs

He senses that she's having a laugh at his expense, but that's okay. Really, it is. Tony dries the second bowl and sets it aside, watching her fidget with her hair. Reflexively, he leans in, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. "Some things they got right the first time." Like newspapers. He knows there's a technical term for it, not that he can think of it now. The sensation of paper, reading from the source instead of from a screen. It's the one, silly antiquated indulgence he allows himself.