"You weren't as bad as you'd think. I was surprised too," she said playfully, sticking out her tongue.
"Hm. I suppose I'll play along and agree," she teased. "A great dancer and a shark catcher. What an amazing combination."
"The best," he agreed, grinning at her. "Although, I can't really dance, and I didn't catch a shark. So you're just left with an empty shell of a man."
"I wouldn't say empty shell. I like you plenty either way, although when you're sober I think you're a bit more sensible."
"No, it just means that you're less likely to go and try to get your hand bitten by a shark," she said. "Or something similar."
"Ah, I see," he said, kissing her cheek. "I don't know, though. I would describe 'trying to catch a shark' as a pretty fun night."
"For you, maybe." She tilted her head. "I was busy trying to make you not catch a shark with your hand."
He watched her, his blue eyes studious, before leaning in to kiss her. "I can't believe this is real," he said quietly.
His hand brushed her cheek, his fingers warm. "So," he said, squinting at her. "How long does it normally take for this headache to leave?"
"Sometimes it can last as long as a day, but I think the pain lessens. It's rough to deal with," she said, taking his hands.
