His grin widened, eyes following the path her finger took. "Perhaps a bit." He was just looking around at the new colour on the wall again when she flung her arms around him, and he had just enough time to drop his brush in to the paint pan beside them on the ground so he could put his arms around her in return and hold her close. "It's perfect," he assured in agreement. "It's all perfect."
And he meant it. Sometimes, as he'd admitted to Much, he felt as though he had little purpose here. Sometimes he felt so restless he couldn't stand it. But he felt, slowly, like he was coming to terms with how different his life was here. And things like taking on the job helping the kids at Rose's centre helped immeasurably. He knew that was what he needed. To feel he was making a difference again. To be helping people.
Leaning his head back just far enough to meet her eyes he smiled. "Though this could all hang on the colour Much chooses for his rooms." His words held an intentionally ominous tone and he glanced anxiously to the ceiling above them.