I think I'm dating a fox sometimes with how much you move around--

[He grabs his hip more tightly, stopping that wiggling as soon as it starts. It's a playful action, a tease more than a real reprimand, and that makes it easier to tip his head back and meet Ling's gaze.]

. . . people don't stick around much.

[He says it carefully, without self-pity, as his other hand lifts. Fingers trace gently over his cheek, smoothing back the little strands of hair that have fallen loose.]

But . . . if you still want to be around in a year, in two years . . . I'd like to have you.