[ When the day comes that someone else's belongings come into her possession, they're usually long gone— it's just the way the world works. Forgotten pieces left behind not to be collected again, or things so inconsequential to someone that they don't mind her keeping them. She's received a few little gifts in her time here that certainly stick out, but it's the smaller things that she keeps even closer— one day Ahab will lose a hairtie, or leave a shirt behind that she'll offer to return after laundering and he'll turn down, and find it in her wardrobe. Around her wrist. Something to treasure and work into her every day life and be able to wrap herself in one way or another.

It's what she carried in her suitcase when she traveled back home; little pieces of others and her photos. To add to that was always a bittersweet fondness, both to have something to remember someone by and for the need to even require such an item. It meant that person was no longer actively in her life or someone far away.

But when his fingers unfurl from hers, she knows exactly what it's for and she fights to keep anything more than an idle smile off her lips, letting her touch skim up his arm to settle in the crook of his elbow, still loosely linked with him. Watches as he pulls up the image and long moment he considers it, seeing himself as she sees him— even exhausted as he is, in the dappling of the trees you can't make out the circles under his eyes, and she'd already straightened his hair and scuffed her nails through his whiskers, mopping up sweat. In a camera lens, he didn't look bad at all.

And when her TAB chimes and she has to fish it back out to read the message he had so obviously sent, her reply is only in her open laughter at his side, shaking her head and repocketing it. She leans into his touch settling at her shoulder, squeezing, the gentlest bump at his side that won't jostle him. They're almost home. ]

I don't think you need to worry; pictures don't have a sense of smell. You look perfectly handsome, Ahab.

[ And she scales the steps with vigor, a bounce in her step and ponytail swinging behind her until she's at the door, fishing out her key to unlock and swing open, inviting him inside with her laughter still playing at the corners of her eyes. Eiger's sitting impatiently yet attentively at the far end of the hall, butt wiggling on the hardwood with the ferocity of his wagging tail just to see Ahab in the doorway. ]

Welcome home...?

[ Because she's always shared her home with her friends, and Ahab's no exception. He's stayed the night before; it's official. ]