This... should be a beautiful moment: he's never made any secret of his attraction to Faye, but he's never really acted on it either. While it's true she did stay here one night, that's... just what it is: he was in a pretty low place and it was nice of her to agree. They didn't so much as hold each others' hands that night, though.

If he wants to be analytical, this could be an interesting opportunity to know what Faye would do if she didn't really know details about his past. But he's not that cold and he's not that calculating. He'd never take advantage of her.

Still, as he puts his arm around her and leans against her body, he can't help but feel a tiny bit guilty, like he's not being fair. Even though she's agreed to this -- even though he's been very careful, very cautious -- he still feels a little... strange and asks himself if he'd feel the same way if she had her memories. It's a question he can't answer, because that's not the way things have gone.

What he does know is this: for a long time now, he's longed for contact. Longed for it, craved it, dreamed about it, wished for it, mourned the lack of it. Right now, it's all he can do not to break down completely. Instead, he forces composure.

"How's this?" His voice is barely a whisper.