She broke into a smile. “You look so grave when you think,” she said, and reached forward, poking her index and middle fingers to either corner of his mouth, pulling it wide. “Smile, Zen.” He reached up and cupped his hand over hers, unfurling her closed fingers so that her hand splayed against his face. Closing his eyes, he sighed and pressed his mouth to her palm just as the candle burned out.
