"Call me that again and I might reconsider," Octavia rasped. But, no. She gave him another squeeze, then drew her arm (and the rest of herself) away so that she could reach into her jacket and pull out a small journal. No, she hadn't wrapped it. Wrapping paper seemed wasteful, and also she wasn't convinced she would have been able to make it very neat, anyway.

She held it out for him, suddenly self-conscious but doing her level best not to let it show. "Here."