[It's the insistence on a choice that makes up Paul's mind, more than anything else. It tilts a balance of decision, not to toppling, but to a definitive slant.

He always makes things more complicated than they need to be.]

If you did all my chores for a month, I'd just end up doing yours.

[Paul shrugs, shifting to set his own hands on the railing, maintaining the narrow space between them. It feels fair.]

The original bet, then.

[Paul's tone is light, a little too much so. He thinks of wings in an updraft, a slow, warmed spin.]

If I surprise you with something you like as much as I like this. Fair?