Then come here," he said, a bit redundantly, as he had already pulled her with him into an armchair and curled her up in his arms. "Tell me what I can do to help you feel better."
Fire looked into his quiet eyes, touched his dear, familiar face, and considered the question. Well. I always like when you kiss me.
"Do you?"
You're good at it.
"Well," he said. "That's lucky, because I'll always be kissing you.

Kristin Cashore