"Sure as fuck did." Avery scrubbed one eye with his hand and then reached for his phone. It was midday already, but fuck he wanted to go back to sleep. In the handful if emails in his inbox was one from the chapel with a pdf of their wedding certificate and a photo portrait of the two of them, one just them and one with the Elvis celebrant in front of the arch at the top of the aisle. Avery squinted at it, and then held his phone screen up to show Lyra.
"Lookit. Your legs in that dress," he said, then added, "and your boobs. Wow." He looked down at her cleavage, barely contained in her rumpled dress, and hooked a finger in the front to pull the top out so he could look inside. "Yup," he said with a teasing smirk. "Still good."