...hey. Ilyushka, you know if you let him hurt you I’ll never forgive either of us, right?

[It’s a desperate failsafe. To hurt himself like that is equated with hurting her; a nuclear option to be sure, but if you want to get through his dramatic skull you have to beat him at his own game: needless, ceaseless sacrifice.]

We’ll crack open a few bottles and see where that takes us. Come on.

[She squeezes back and begins leading him toward the Up housing, a childish bounce in her step as she goes.]

I’ve been saving up for a cottage and I’m getting close to the goal, but I’ve made the apartment as homey as possible. I think you’ll like it.