Before I say anything else, realise that I mean this in the best way possible was something that usually would make a person feel a bit nervous to hear. Perhaps something inside of Ellie seemed to waver, as if trying to employ such nervousness; but she never seemed to manage those things anymore.
Instead she tilted her head, too, to match his -- perhaps subconsciously -- and shook her head. "No... Nobody really is, inside."
Ellie thought for a moment, then nodded, as if to agree with her own statement. "And you aren't. Evan."
I said that out loud.
Progress. She leaned over now to give the smile a hat, which seemed to float supernaturally where there should have been a forehead. "Keeping you warm," Ellie murmured, jokingly. "It's going to be winter soon."
Her second winter, out of... However many there had been. The second winter she'd remember in all of this. It was a strange thought; Eloise was glad, though, that she'd gotten a morning like this; even one morning out of what she could remember. Sitting on a cold floor wrapped in someone's blanket -- accidentally sharing something with him that he hadn't meant to share. What did a girl do, after that?
Ellie didn't know. She glanced at him, then spontaneously sighed her name under the drawing of How She Felt. Eloise E. Stamp.
"If you can't tell, these scribbles mean that I'm having a good morning," she clarified, a moment later.