—Gwynlain sitting by the crackling fireplace in their cottage—
Gwyn, reading aloud from a poetry book: "Oh how I love thee, to the depth of all oceans deep, and heights of sky that I might leap to pierce, as you have my very soul…"
Elain, knitting a blanket & glancing up: Is that… *shy smile* for me?
Gwyn, snapping the book shut dramatically, face bright red: No! It's… research! — For… understanding poetry!
Elain, giggling: Right. Research… By chance are you researching how to blush that brightly too?














