I happen to like your jammies. [Annie seems to forget that Mitchell was born over a hundred years ago, when her thin grey knits and soft layers would be incredibly scandalous. And while he's obviously shifted and grown with the times, he still has moments of affront when he sees a girl wearing very little as she goes out and about. It's a little thrilling to see the outline of her bra through the white of her tank top, or her straps through the holes on her shoulders.

He hums a little as she lifts her hand to smooth it through his hair, pushing his unruly curls out of his face, and he turns his head to press a quick little kiss to the heel of her palm.] I am happy, though. [He pulls away to look at her properly, frowning a little at her as it's his hand that lifts to brush her hair away from her cheek.] Christ, Annie. I have you back. I'm the happiest bloke on the planet.