Despite society as they knew it crashing down beneath the weight of infection and death, there were some things that even an apocalypse couldn't beat out of human nature, and that was a driving need for romantic companionship. Rory saw it often enough, and it amused her to some extent, but that was because she was too cautious to give herself that freely to anyone.
Sex was different. Sex could be perfectly detached. But the only person she could depend on to stay alive was herself, so it was a risk to even consider the idea of falling for someone else. Someone who could easily die the second they started to matter to her. Someone who might not even be trustworthy to begin with. This woman O'Brien was speaking of, maybe she had it right.
But Rory wasn't saying that. She knew it would be cold, and she tried to refrain from that level of bitchiness. Most of the time. "You made a mistake. They'll get over it or they won't. But either way, you have to keep going." He was free to mope and sigh wistfully as much as he wanted, as long as he kept moving. "I need to get the books from my bedroom. I'll be right back, okay?"