There are more transcendental ways they balance their giving with taking and vice versa. Kissing, touching, holding, these are physical expressions of more ethereal things. "More like a wounded duck," she retorts quietly, and with a distinct air of teasing. "And lucky to be taken under your wing."

If Verity knew, she'd make a point of challenging Foggy's poetic abilities more often. Now that she's feeling free to wear the bright colors she prefers again, she might not need to make a conscious effort.

"Us," she clarifies. That smile is wonderful. She could live in the warmth of that smile. She wants to admire it, commit it to memory, taste it, touch it... but she doesn't want to disrupt it. "I love you."