I would feel bad, I think, about stepping on a husband of mine. Less so a dark servant.

[Is she trying to make him blush? Probably. But luckily they're not really moving anymore, and they're nice and close, so she can abandon holding his hand in favor of shuffle-gliding forward for a hug and wrapping her arms around him instead.]

You know, I was thinking we should go out on New Year's. One last time, like a farewell. Your chance to attend as just Adrian, and nothing else.

[She hums a little, rubbing her cheek against his still-damp coat.]

But if you want to stay in, I support that too.