"I know you hate it but c'mon—! You gotta come to this one." Sam smiles, eyes glimmering as she loops one arm round your neck, tugging you backwards so her knuckles can rub against her scalp affectionately. Ugh, this woman.

"Please?" She pouts exaggeratedly, eyes sparking with playful mirth, though not before she grunts—going from ruffling your hair to curling into, it, slumping against you with a groan.

"And no lectures. I know what I'm doing."