Words just don't come out at first.

Why is he telling her this?

Different doesn't mean dead by stretch of her weary imagination.

He doesn't feel dead. She can see him breathing, and like he said, that's a pulse beneath her fingers. And he's warm and he laughs and plays the saxophone and looks at her with eyes that aren't dead.

Looking almost reproachful, she leaves her fingers there against his wrist. "So what makes you think you're probably not alive?"