Evie is lying stretched out on their hotel bed reading; what, Rick can't tell, but she is deeply absorbed in whatever it is, her feet in the air. She is only half dressed and her hair is down and spread over her shoulders; idly, she brushes it away from her face when the breeze from the open window drifts a curl into her eyes, but she does not look up to see Rick crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe until she finally shifts to turn her page.

"Oh, hello," she says, peering at him owlishly over the rims of her spectacles. "How long have you been lurking?"

She pushes the glasses up onto her forehead and smiles at him.

"Not too long," Rick says. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you do that?"

"What, read?" she says. She puts her book aside and rolls onto her side to make room for him; he pushes himself away from the door and sits beside her, resting a hand on her hip as he leans in to kiss her forehead.

"We're going to miss the boat," he murmurs into her hair.

"Oh, stuff the boat," she says. "Come read with me."

"Evelyn," he says. She looks up at him, eyes wide, waiting; he cannot articulate what is trapped in his chest like a thousand quivering butterflies (butterflies) (what has she done to him) so he just says, "Evie," and she smiles and pulls him down to kiss him.