Sometimes I sit down and someone sits beside me and they say something that requires a targeted pillow redirect.

[He says it very professionally, to what amounts as a pillow fight. Though it normally is more of a short smack each way than a long battle.

It is a little strange, lying in bed with someone. Not bad, but odd, and his fingers twist together as they rest over his stomach. His fingers like to keep busy, always. Shadows play against her ceiling, soft in shades of black and gray from the moonlight. He smiles a little at her threat.]

I could always retaliate with your office at the university, you know.