[ The thought that he wouldn't have the chance to give her materia back sends a flutter of worry through her stomach, making it feel crucially important to curve herself against him and shift so that she can stretch her legs out and tangle them with his. It's a move she's all the happier for making when Sanji mentions his mother and the way he'd needed to flee his home. She hated her cell, but she hates the one he was held in more. The memory of that horrible mask trapping her head makes the arm she's kept around him tighten almost protectively while he brings her other hand up to kiss, leaving her stretching her fingers out in response, brushing his cheek while Sanji's lips dust across her knuckles. ]

I don't know if there's anyone else I'd want to look after it. I know you understand.

[ Warmth lingers in her voice, but it's taken on a somber note too, a chill she tries to chase away by turning her head so that she can press kisses against his hair before adding an almost sullen-sounding– ] Wish you didn't.

[ He's so bright and full of joy, that he's been exposed to things worse than what she's endured in the Shinra Building will always hurt her heart, even though she's grateful for the way these experiences have left them both able to see and understand one another in a way she's not sure she's had before. He should have a picture of his mother. They both should.

Weary as she is it might have been easy to let herself dwell, but despite the dark topic, it's also wonderful to be here like this, wrapping around him in the comforting confines of a hot bath, the bridge of her nose nuzzling his hair, the notion that she can linger here and get to watch him make her breakfast softening the sharper edges of her thoughts. Everything just clicks into place when she's with him. ]

How will I pay you back? [ Clearly a rhetorical question given the way she kisses the back of his head and immediately follows it up. ] I'll just have to protect you.