He'd like to laugh. Really, he would. He's just - not exactly someone who laughs real easy, is the thing. At all, really. Being anhedonic will do that to you, but it makes shit like this a hell of a lot more awkward than it needs to be. The deprecating slant to her words isn't lost on him, and his gaze drops to his battered shoes.

"Does this...do you think this'd help? At all?"

Why is he doing this? Why is he seeking some kind of warped fucking validation from her? Because she won't remember it?

That isn't fair. That isn't fucking fair, and he of all people should know.