Her eyes narrow at his “no promises,” but there’s a flicker of amusement she can’t quite hide, even as she steps in closer, invading his space on purpose now. She reaches up, fingers briefly hooking the brim of Dom’s cap to tug it down just enough to be annoying before letting it snap back into place. “Growing boy, huh?” she echoes under her breath, voice edged with that low, teasing drawl. “Could’ve fooled me with how you look like you’re about two seconds from falling asleep standing up.” Her gaze softens for a split second after, scanning his face like she’s checking he actually made it here in one piece, before the smirk creeps back in to cover it.
She exhales quietly, shifting so her shoulder brushes his again, lingering this time instead of pulling away. “C’mon,” Rhea mutters, jerking her chin toward the restaurant as she starts to move, fully expecting him to follow without question. “Let’s grab the food before you start eyeing up strangers’ takeout like a menace.” There’s warmth in it, easy and familiar, settling into her chest now that he’s here beside her again. As they walk, her hand briefly catches his wrist, not to stop him, just to keep him close; thumb brushing over his skin before she lets go like it didn’t mean anything at all. Ya, she's definitely missed him. Shit still misses being around him twenty four seven, and that part of their life has been over for over a year now. “And for the record,” she adds over her shoulder, tone dry but laced with something softer, “you pass out on me tonight, I’m not carrying you to bed. You’re stayin’ right where you drop.” A beat. Then, quieter, almost to herself, “...might throw a blanket over you if I’m feelin’ nice.”