"I'm very glad you think so." He kisses the corner of her mouth, leaving behind a smear of blood.

"Ewww," she says, but with a giggle.

He giggles back.

"Sort of hard to imagine what you see in the stuff. I mean, I have some idea of the appeal of normal blood, but it's still weird to think of nuisance-fluid as appealing."

"...nuisance-fluid," he giggles.

"That's what it is when you spend six years trying to wash the stuff out of garments every month!"

"I love you."

"I love you. I'm glad the stuff's good for something, now."

He laughs and snuggles her.

"...I wish I was a masochist," she confesses. "I'm not. But--I can give you bruises, and I can give you this, and it's not everything I want to give you, when you're looking at me the way you do when I'm bruised or bleeding, but it's not nothing either."

...he smiles. He hugs her. "I love you."

"I love you." Snuggle.

Mmmm. So cozy.

So cozy!

Eventually she starts showing signs of abdominal discomfort again.

More tummy rubs?

Yes. Yes good. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." Snuggle snuggle.

Snuggle. "How did you learn to be so nice, here all alone..."

"I have no idea but I'm glad I managed it."

"Me too. It's wonderful. You're wonderful."

"I love you. I love making you happy."

"You're really good at it!"

"I'm glad!"

"Good." Snuggle. "...I assume you can get rid of the blood at some point, it's only going to get grosser as it gets older..."

"Mm. Yeah."

Snuggle. There is the brief, odd-but-refreshing sensation of being suddenly made clean by magic.