Logically, it left them in their own houses, with their own friends, and not sneaking off to snog or talk.
Logic bloody well sucked though, Dean thought. It wasn't what he wanted. "I'm sorry. . . really bloody sorry. I mean if things were different. . ." Dean sighed. "I'd be begging you for a date, Daph, and praying you said yes, yeah? It's not like I don't want to. It's just everything else." He couldn't resist reaching out to brush her hair back from her face again. "We can still talk and such. In the journals? No one can see then. And maybe we can just. . . say sod it sometimes and skeeve off somewhere, but just be careful and not. . . I don't know. Call it anything." Since they couldn't exactly exclusively date when it was secret, and she was supposed to marry someone and all.