Hey, they were saccharine normally and they lived together. Three months apart (even a lopsided three months apart) probably earned more than a little sweetness.

Annie fumbled her hand out of Diego's hair and behind him, grabbing onto the headboard (....couch back? Was this a fold-out? Elliot, come on.) for a little leverage -- not to up her rhythm at all, but rather to maintain it while still being able to focus on Diego. She leaned her forehead against his, her free hand finding a path down his arm until she was holding the hand that wasn't cupping her cheek. Just to, again, be kind of saccharine about this.