Lyra couldn't decide what she liked more, the way he looked at her mouth when he told her he wanted her or his mention of vows and their one year, Look How Good We Have It All Ye Of Little Faith wedding. Both. She didn't have to choose, she had both. "I promise next time I go lookin for trouble, y'can come with me," she said, and she didn't know how she was gonna feel either, tomorrow, when the shock had faded and she found herself living in a world where faeries didn't populate the background of every waking thought. No, she had no idea how to predict what tomorrow was gonna be like, or how to predict her own self, but she was pretty sure she could predict Avery, least in some ways, and there was some solid comfort in that. "Y'can come with me right now, if you wanna," she suggested, corners of her mouth turning devilishly up.