He lifts an eyebrow at that. "You look pretty fucking human to me, babe, regardless of actual status. And I'm certified good at noticing that shit."

He leans back on the couch, lifting an arm to rest it over the side. "Look, whatever shape you pick, that's not the point. The point is, you have a physical shape. That's something for us to interact with. Something for us to love, or hate, or yell at when we break down your bedroom door, or want to see dead. We can project onto this."