"Whatever you want it to be, love," he tells her, honestly, because that's the truth of it, in the end. Over time, there isn't much this couldn't become, he feels, so he tells her that, too, moving his hand to her shoulder, his thumb stroking her skin through his shirt, and his eyes are on her and he doesn't care about the sour aftertaste of terrible blood in his mouth, he only cares about answering her truthfully. "If you let it, it's only a beginning."