"What George doesn't hear can't hurt him, right?" Sookie replied with a lofty expression, teasing as she looped her arms around his waist, walking backward and further into the hut, tugging him with her. "But no, I'd agree with him, it's not as nice as your place. This hut used to belong to a friend of mine who disappeared recently— it's almost creepy now, like he suspected that he was going to leave, but anyway. I replaced things like the sheets, but I felt like the furniture might as well stay, so that some of him does. Which means the place is a little less colorful than I'd like. Or maybe that's just me tryin' to explain off my laziness."

Peeking over her shoulder, Sookie peeked at the multipurpose living and dining room, with a small table and a couple of chairs in the middle, as well as a bench off to the side covered in haphazard padding and tons of pillows. All bamboo furniture, and it made her wince to think of just how different it was from the home she'd lived in back in Bon Temps.

"It's definitely better now that I'm not roomin' with someone I didn't know all too well," she nodded, turning to face Mitchell again, before reaching for his hand and taking him back to the bedroom, lit bright by a large, open window, sunlight filtering over her pale yellow sheets. "But it gets lonesome, too, so these days I keep on spendin' more time at the Winchester or the Compound."