Icicles. My nose is going to fall off. I am going to be the amazing noseless girl.

[ She wrinkles her stiff nose a little bit, before finally giving up and resting her cheek against his shoulder. ]

If you can't thaw me when this is over, you'll write a really nice eulogy for me, right? Even pretend to cry a little bit? [ None of these theatrics are even slightly authentic. She's just cold and a little whiny and unwilling to sit here in silence - it's too easy to focus on it that way. ]