[ Luther's mouth curls into a warm, knowing smile, even as he's staring absentmindedly straight ahead at the peeling, tattered wallpaper of the hallway. (He can hear her on the other end, the rustling, her breath, and so he latches onto that mental image instead. He knows what her apartment looks like now; he can picture her there.) ]

Sounds like the Number Three I know.

[ —know and love, is the easy end to that aphorism, but he bites off those words and leaves it at that. The first three of them had always been so brutal and competitive compared to the rest. It's familiar. Endearing. ]

You'll get there and win everything someday, I know it. Maybe even an EGOT.

[ His tone is somewhere between light and teasing, and also genuinely, idealistically supportive. He really believes she could, someday. ]