Cognizant of the fact that he's still not wearing much, Rosie doesn't move as close as she might have otherwise--as she had before, on his couch in the middle of a long and exhausted night. Just his presence, really, is enough.

"I'd like that," she says, pleased by the suggestion. "I was already thinking of having a party once I'm moved in, but I should do something on Tuesday, too. Something smaller, but just as special."

She pauses, blushing faintly as a ridiculous, curious question forms in her mind; one she's not sure she ought to ask, given how likely it is to lead to yet more teasing. She stays silent for a beat before giving in. "Dare I ask how you might've celebrated something like that--or anything else, whatever's similar, really--back home?"