She's not exactly sure what she was expecting, but for Sam to actually lean in and kiss her is pretty much at the bottom of her list. Her breath catches, and her head swims, and everything in her aches for this the way it had that day in the art museum, and many, many days before that. It's not the biggest, grandest kiss, but that's not what counts, here. None of that matters. He pulls back and Porrim lets her forehead rest against his, just for a moment.

"No, you're the one that I should be thanking," she corrects him gently. And because they're here, and because she can, and she wants to, she leans back in for one more kiss. Just in case it's her last chance.