[ In one of the cups, of course, is the tea he prefers, ready to steep as she pours out each mug. Her eyes stay fixed on her task for a moment before she feels his arms wrap around her, pulling her into his embrace. It's something she doesn't expect nor did she think he would ever give to her again (it's an overly dramatic thought but... it's Annie).
She lets out a soft, contented sigh at the feeling, her eyes closing for a moment as she sets the kettle back on the stove.] So am I. [ For pushing him, for making him feel like he had to do something that he couldn't, just to make her happy, to make her feel normal when that was the last thing they'd ever be.]
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She lets out a soft, contented sigh at the feeling, her eyes closing for a moment as she sets the kettle back on the stove.] So am I. [ For pushing him, for making him feel like he had to do something that he couldn't, just to make her happy, to make her feel normal when that was the last thing they'd ever be.]