"Oh." It's stupid and he immediately regrets it coming out of his mouth. Why can he charm an entire room with ease but one-on-one it dissolves into mush? Especially when it's important. He hates it. Emotions flicker across his eyes too quickly to pick up individually and he has a strong urge to run away right now. He glances towards the door -- there's nowhere for him to go, even if he truly wanted to. Which he doesn't, the last thing he wants is to leave her. But facing that is scarier than outside right now. Which is pretty damn scary.

He's still on the edge of the bed, one leg dangling off as he turns to face her again. This is the part where they talk, isn't it? It feels like that, but he's rubbish at starting any type of real conversation. "Well, let me know if you feel like it again." Coming from someone else, or even him in another context, would seem like a cheesy line, but he's so genuinely lost and it shows and can be heard plainly in his voice. He needs to just ask her what's on his mind, but his pulse is racing and no matter how he moves his lips he can't get the words to pass through.