"You'll never be rid of me now, you know."

Isabella lets a breathy laugh escape her nose and hums in vague approval, rolling back her neck leisurely. Phineas' grip on her upper arm tightens protectively in the process. She doesn't mind.

She curls further under Phineas chin, Phineas' bangs lilting out of her eyes helpfully. Isabella reaches up mindlessly, toying with the fiery strands. She nods when Phineas fails to pull away. And then she smiles.

"Good," she states simply.

Isabella feels safe. And happy.

Good.