She can't press flush against him like she could a couple of months ago, but she can (and does) kiss him slowly, fingers tangling up into his hair.

"Feels pretty kriffing real now, doesn't it?" she asks, once there's a break for air. She rests her jaw against his shoulder with her face turned away from him, her eyes following the way that the tail of the stuffed bantha on the dresser moves in the breeze. "With a place for her and everything."