Her elation makes sense. What she says leaves him nonplussed. Hap shrugs it off, following behind to ensure the door is completely closed behind her. From his bedroom, he grabs his own comb. He staggers his walk back to give her time to dress.

A one-knuckle rap at the door and he enters. He holds the comb out to her before crossing his arms, unusually awkward in a space that barely qualifies as hers. Her claim to it has grown in defiance of how he's sullied it.