Porrim needs to remember this. She needs to soak it all in, she needs to etch it in her memory, just in case. Just in case she has to go back to pretending this all never happened. Pretending she hasn't fallen for Sam in a way that's more than a little alarming to someone who hasn't said the l-word to someone else in a decade or so. And that thought, she finds, is the hardest one of all to comprehend.

Sam's words bring her back to present, and she shakes her head a little. "I like to think so." Porrim heaves a sigh, turning back to her makeup brushes and setting back to her work matter-of-factly--but she can't seem to keep that little smirk off her face, now.