She sighs as his embrace tightens, melts against him, into him. She needs this, needs someone to lean against, someone to hold onto. And it feels greedy and selfish to even ask for it but -- Sweet Issus, she wants him to need her, too. And not just for the material things she has to offer him.

She holds onto him for a long quiet moment, and when the hug finally breaks, she pulls back enough to put some air between them. Her hands catch his, still holding onto him. As if she's afraid, if she lets go, he'll disappear in a puff of smoke.

"You'll ask Edgar about visiting the meadow?"