To sit. To be. There is nothing more Johan Mayerling than that. "We come here for very different reasons," she admits with a soft chuckle as she sways gently in his arms, "but it kind of reminds me of home, too." But her lips twitch at the word, and she corrects herself. "Well, my Otherworld. A lot brighter but there's a... a "

No, because when she thinks of home, she thinks of people. Of Rose waking her in the morning with chocolate milk in a coffee mug. Of Chris coming home late at night to find her still working away at homework. Now, Mayerling is home, too. The realization makes her heart feel topsy-turvy and warm.