[she considers this, running her fingers over the mark on his chest, tracing it down but making another arm to do so. She wants to hold him everywhere and feels too old for it. She shouldn't be this insecure but...]

The downy feathers and fluff are my favorite parts. Marco... I'm sorry. I-- I'm not sure if--

[But she's not even sure how to say it. She feels as if she gave in...or perhaps not given in enough? She felt like she could have handled it better somehow]

I love how you choose to be. [because that's the truth for her just as much as the rest of it] I wanted...I wanted to bring it back...