When he touches his forehead to hers, Annabelle laughs a little—a brief and fleeting sort of chuckle that's mostly an exhale through her nostrils, and she turns to face Lauren in full, rather than craning her neck to look over her shoulder.

"Did you sleep well?"

She hooks one of her legs with his, moving some of his hair from his cheek with a stroke of her palm, smiling faintly.

"Did you dream?"