Oh, darling. No more than anything else in this sorry bag of bones. I’m not worried about it. It’ll be healed up by the end of the day, like as not.

I’m still made of pretty stern stuff.

[He smirks at her, taking the bag of bagels from her as he loops an arm around her waist, emboldened by the fact that he did remember their kissing from the night before. He tastes like smoke and the vodka he rinses his mouth with each morning. He pulls her in close and kisses her gently on the lips.]

Now, what’s this you brought?