“Sorry?” Guinevere looked over at him, all sweet, blissful innocence. “I didn’t quite catch that.” “Nothing, dear.” It came so easily to him, that endearment. It rolled off his tongue the way a breath was exhaled by the lungs, an action that required no mulling over. It simply…was. “Oh, Oskar,” Guinevere scoffed, and she turned away from him, but not before he saw her smile brighten even more.
