Nod.

"It's really overrated."

"Society's just this jumble of historic and culture residue left to rot into normality compost," she snorts.

"Does that make people worms?"

"No, people are the people keeping the compost heap who keep inadvisably rubbing it all over themselves."

Pfffft.

"And then they keep wondering what's making them stink."

"It's not that compost doesn't have it's place, but that place is not on anybody's sexuality or genetics."

"I'm sure there's somebody into composting."

This metaphor has taken a turn for the worse.

"Yes, if you really want to roll around in compost that's fine, just don't smear it on your kids."

Oh, no, that one got him.

He puts his face in his hands so he's less visibly cracking up.

She giggles.

He looks up after he manages to contain himself.

"You are so good."

"I know," she says, hugging his arm and leaning into him again.

He will never, ever get tired of all this affection.

(He also has to admit that he likes that people will see this.)

She smiles a little wider and holds his arm a little tighter and radiates happiness in return.

For the short time that they're walking back to campus, he is convinced nothing will ever go wrong again.

"I have homework," she remarks a little while after they've reached the campus. "I'm guessing you do too. Do you want to find a table in the library?"

"...I left my bag."

Good job, Z!

"I'll run back and then catch up with you there?"

"Sure thing," she says, smooching him on the cheek.

These smooches fuel him.

He waves to her as he walks off towards his dorm.

She waves back and then lopes off to the library.

Thankfully, the process of retrieving his stuff is uneventful.

Well, mostly.

He walks into the library with a bag over his shoulder and a fair bit of dried blood on his ear. The piercing that Edie ripped out is now back in its proper home.

if i were a cool psychic chick, where would i hide?

No idea, but I'm over here, she sends, accompanied by directions.

Oh, weird. He goes in the direction he now remembers going as if he has in any way been in this library before.

Once he finds her he takes his place at her table, tossing his bag on the chair next to him.

i guess you're basically nothing like i would be if i were psychic. or a chick.

I'm sure you would make a lovely telepath, but yes, definitely not me.

for one thing, you remember homework.

He pulls a few papers out of his bag.