[The embrace has worked its magic, anyway. They have a plan of action, even if it is sort of a spooky-vague, short-term plan, and Dave feels less like a ghost haunting the house and more like SHSL Boyfriend, all making hot chocolate for them at midnight, look how domestic she's got him. He bumps her lightly with his bony hip.]

I'm always treating myself, 'round here.

[He thinks about it, then tries to insinuate himself even closer, somehow, warm and embarrassed even as he pours and marshmallows their mugs.]

The implication's that you're a treat. Just thought I'd put that up here on the counter with all the rest of this gooey sweet shit, where we both can see it.