Their fingers, still a bit pale and chilled with cold, tangle together, and somehow it's the electric spark that sends warmth through Sabrina, the feeling only amplified when Rosie is clearly feeling some of the same things. Sabrina remains determined to wait, to see this through properly, but she's suddenly aware that they've held out for months. Where that might have given her pause, the ever present worry that she'd pushed Rosie into something she was uncomfortable with before-- they've devoted time and energy and intention to this.

Like magic.

She presses her own fingers back against Rosie's, and nods. "Right," she agrees, and she tugs again, gently, heading to the living room, to the comfort of the couch. "Sometimes it just feels... new."