Olivia has always been good with numbers. They just stay in her head for some reason. When she was a kid, for fun, she used to count cards, letting the string of numbers flow through her mind.
Now, she has a new set of numbers of memorize. The number of breaths Peter takes a minute; the number of heartbeats compared to her own; the number of pale freckles he has sprinkled over his nose and cheeks, so pale she can hardly see them till she leans in close.
And she wants to memorize all of him - every hair, every freckle, in case she loses him again. In the back of her mind is that nagging fear, that someday she will lose what she has so recently found - Peter's love.
So she counts his breaths, hoards his smiles like a miser, storing them all away against the day she will once again be alone and betrayed. Because if there's one thing she's learned, it's that everything follows a pattern, even this.
Peter opens his eyes, catching her staring at him once again.
"What?" he asks sleepily.
Leaning on her elbow, Olivia shakes her head.
"Nothing," She says. "Just counting cards."