Tony nods in agreement, moving the bowl to the table on a whim, especially since they'd eaten mostly everything edible, a few unopened and burnt kernels at the bottom. When he leans back his thigh presses against hers, and it's somehow as gratifying as he thought it would be. He thinks about waking up tangled with her and tries to identify the feelings suddenly racing through his chest like a stampede of water buffalo.

"He's okay," Tony offers, flashing a somewhat toothy smile her way before turning back to the screen, his arm flopping over the back of the couch so that if she sat up or moved towards him even an inch her face would line up with his shoulder.