"I promise I won't do it again."

He offered a fleeting glance, making sure the memory of her soft cerulean eyes imprinted in his mind, and turned away, pulling open the door to his beloved Morty. This was it.

Out of sight, out of mind.

'Yeah Right,' he thought, scoffing inwardly. She was the reason for his insomnia, his heart skipping a beat, and his uncontrollable urge to write. Though he'd never admit it, in just two days this girl had managed to invade his mind and heart.

She wasn't escaping either. Not now, not ever.

There was silence, and he took it as a final goodbye.

Her hand covered his.

He stared down, a slow, warm tingle finding it's way up his arm, shocked, at the contrast of pale cream and olive.

She spoke. "You can interfere sometimes, but… " She paused. An invitation. "I'm still going to do whatever I want."

His gaze traveled upwards from their hands clasped together to her beautiful, determined baby blues. Something surged through him, something deep and raw. Half-protection, half-affection, he stared at her, completely serious.

"Wouldn't expect anything less."