( It's not an expression she holds terribly long, but the way it fades is into softer lines on her face, and she's not frowning. Not even her usual neutral expression has taken over, and with the wind tousling her loose hair, Annie feels a little less bogged down. Tied up? Aimed and directed without any way off the path towards violence and violent endings.

Not that she's less capable of it, but she can choose degrees. )

I'll consider holding you to that. And him, if he wants.

( Considerations, because she doesn't feel it's owed. Not from anyone, certainly, but if that's because she sidesteps that kind of committed admittance or because she genuinely doesn't believe it's something she deserves is difficult for even her to say.

Annie gives a soft sigh as she exhales, lifting both brows a touch. The last lingering remnants of her smile tug the corners of her lips up a smidgen, a ghost of a smile that doesn't need to haunt either one of them. )

We can get back to that list of everything you were thinking about earlier now if you want. I'll ignore the stupid suggestions.

( Read: over-protectiveness is pointless when it comes to her, as assuredly human as she is now or not. Reasonable precautions are accepted.

She plucks at the corner of the paper napkin, tearing it off to fold and press against the pad of her thumb. Her ring slides back into her kangaroo pocket, hand lingering to turn it around a few times, familiar with the metal, the shape, the grooves, the intentions. Maybe it's shifting closer to a time where she can let it go. )