[ But they'd been mostly playing it a little casual with one another for the better part of their adult lives and then some. Over the past ten years or so, Andy had gotten better at looking like she didn't care and didn't think about it, but at the same time, she must have cared about it a bit — enough to follow him since they were first years. Somehow, she managed to be always within arm's reach while also keeping arm's length, which had bred an ambiguous intimacy she'd come to strictly define as friendship, even when other people seemed less sure.

Whatever it is between them, she's still here. Now. As ever. A constant, if nothing else. ]

Well, what the fuck are we waiting for then. [ She's already starting to shrug off her heavy, dusty robes as she follows him down the hall. No point in being overly concerned with modesty when it's just to the two of them — it's nothing he hasn't seen before. ] I'll pluck the last few feathers if you help me wash my hair.

[ That's another thing she hasn't had in months: A haircut. And all that long, dark stuff is even more untamed now than it was the last time he saw her. ]