"No," she pouted, "Now I'm suspicious." His sly little smile didn't help to ease her mind. She hadn't expected such a complete capitulation on his part. Had she just won the game? She supposed so, though she didn't feel particularly victorious. It felt like he'd merely let her win. Not fair.
As she plucked the phone book from his hands she shot him a doubtful look. When he remained still she figured he was content in his defeat and sank onto the couch beside him, trying for a second time (and succeeding) in ordering their dinner. In the kitchen, the coffee machine beeped and the rich aroma of the coffee permeated the air. Phone tossed aside, Wanda announced "Forty-five minutes" and let her head loll back against the coushins. The playfulness seemed to drain out of her and she turned her face to look at him.
There was a very small and earnest smile on her face, colored with a touch of her former melancholy. Wanda lifted her hand to Daimon's jawline and ran her fingertips gently along his cheek. "Thank you," she murmured softly, her gaze searching his with reticence, as though she expected to be denied this moment. "For-" (Tolerating this? Distracting me? Being here, now?) "Everything," she finished.