Like sunflower seeds sprouting out through shitty dirt in the blistering heat of Texas day, Anabelle's smile blossoms against his lips. The arm formerly against his jaw finds a new home wrapped around the back of his neck, the light weight just enough to pull him in even closer. She can't remember anything that came before this, and that's just as well, she wouldn't really want to. There's things that need sorting out — there always are — but those thoughts are edged away fiercely, not permitted to impose upon their moment. There's a world of people out thee just waiting to judge them — there always has been — but it doesn't matter. It took some time to realize, and her mother has yet to arrive at the same conclusion, but Anabelle now knows that it never did. It's her life, their life, and no one else's.

When she leans up, neck craned just so to whisper into his ear, the unearthly beauty of the flowers make her breath catch yet again. "Y'know," she says, softly, "I think I owe you a big fat I-told-you-so."