"Okay, okay, I'll pick. Just-- y'know, tell me if you want something else."

He's been just as afraid to voice the what now, the affirmation that this really happened, that there's something that's supposed to come next. That they've both acknowledged this, that they're going to move forward from it. They can't pretend this didn't happen. They can't turn back and erase it.

But this has gone okay so far. Maybe that means it'll stay that way.

He reaches for her other hand, curling his fingers around the side of hers, encouraging her to take his hand in return. "So," he says, "are we okay?"