"Bullet points first," she murmurs, shifting in her seat so that she can take the bottle for another sip, and curl up in the armchair in a way that lets her touch him.

Looking over his shoulder while he writes is the main goal, sure, but she also has her hand right there and his hair is so nice to play with that she has to.

"The bullets might have to be a resume to begin with, we can do the cover letter after."