Her fingers traced over the cover, letting the texture of it soak through her skin. Paper and bound books were a rarity on Atlantis, and she hadn't realized just how much she had missed them. The coarse animal hide felt more real than most of the things she touched during her day, and she wanted to hug it to her chest and never let it go.
"Happy birthday."
"I used to keep one of these," she murmured, still staring at the gift in her hands. "I'd try to write in it every day...I don't remember why I stopped." She looked up then, eyes searching his. "Thank you, John."
He shrugged. "Just promise to write nice things about me once in awhile, okay?"
A smirk tugged at her lips. "When you deserve it," she teased.
He grinned at her. "Fair enough."
She wondered when this man had gotten to know her so well, how he always gave her just what she needed, even when she didn't know what that was.
"Maybe next year you could get me a pen."
His smile widened, and he held up an ordinary pen with a badly curled ribbon tied around it. Laughing, unable to help herself, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. It caught him off-guard, just like it always did, and it took him a few seconds to recover. But then his arms were holding her, his face pressed to the top of her head.
"Happy birthday, 'Lizabeth," he repeated, his voice rough around the edges.
She just held him tighter.