It makes Elvis smile, a faint ghost of a thing, a little surprised but knowing that he shouldn't be. He's never really been the openly affectionate sort, only with the few people who've mattered enough to be, his father and Anabelle the only ones that come to mind. With Effy, he thinks it's the same. Whatever he sees in her that reminds him of himself, that inexplicable sense of kinship he's felt since practically they met, he wonders if she could use something like this as much as he could, just the reassurance that someone won't leave like all the others inevitably do. That someone cares, against all odds.

"I don't think we could actually swing like this," he tells her, leaning sideways against her. "Probably wouldn't work."