I like when we practice fighting. I like the glint in your eye that you get when you're thinking about something, a new way to do something, you put everything into it.

Even cooking rice.

[He leans easily to the petting, as always, unable to resist the affection and gentle touch. Paul seems to glow now. Warm, soft, radiant, like the sun, instead of cold and blue like the matter at the darkest edges of space.]

And I like when you get distracted by something in your head or the house after you take a shower and forget to put your shirt on. Then put it on wrong the first time when you come back for it.