"Friday's good. Friday's perfect. We like Fridays, they're good wedding days, right?" She was rambling and repeating herself, but she didn't care. There was a date. A date. A point in time when, if she really wanted to, she could count down the days until it came. It solidified it, made it concrete. As if that ring on her finger didn't already take care of that.
Stretching up to kiss him, she made sure to avoid all of his injuries in the process. She couldn't help herself, though. It was just one of those perfect kidding moments, the kind she saw in those mushy romance movies that she only ever watched when there was nothing better on. Really.
"I think I love Friday, March 20th almost as much as you," she murmured against his mouth, kissing him again.