"I think that's probably the best course of action to make both of our lives easier," she says with mock seriousness. The imagery that this conversation is setting into her mind gives Lydia just one more little ray of hope for the future that they could have if they can ever get out of here. She can't help feeling a little warm and fuzzy inside just thinking about it. She supposes, though, once they get out of here, she's going to need to come clean about the banshee thing. Lydia can't imagine living anywhere near New York City without the voices in her head being incredibly loud and distracting for a long while as she adjusts to the higher number of deaths she'll be predicting on average. ...she wonders, a little sadly, whether that will be a deal breaker for him. Whether it'll freak him out too much and whether that'll be the end of whatever this beautiful rollercoaster they're on happens to be.

For now, she pushes away the thought. "Oh, I'm sure. You poor bastard," she laughs, nuzzling her nose against his and giving him a chaste kiss on the lips.

With another nod, Lydia smiles. "That, I can manage. And I'm looking forward to it."

She touches his face gently to let him know she's moving away from him for a moment so that she can check the progress of her memory foam and she's pleased to see the polyol working exactly as it should. "Perfect," she says softly to herself. "Okay, I need to let this set. Wanna go up and get some food from the Commissary to bring back and we can hang out here for a little while before we have to go back to our rooms for the night?" she asks, turning back to him and taking his hands in hers to let him know where she is.