‘Are you really, very sure?’ I murmured, my face buried into his shirt. ‘Because if you need any other reassurances from me, I’m ready. Happy to go back and stick my tongue down your throat before Tared’s eyes, if you think it’ll cheer you up?’ His lips remained pressed against my forehead, his hands didn’t loosen on my back – but a new sound escaped him amidst a small fit of coughs. It came out muffled, that unexpected hiccup, as if his own tongue was not yet quite sure what to do with it … But it was undeniably, indisputably, a laugh. A laugh.
