[The sound she makes isn't quite a whimper. Just a pained little catch in her throat when he jerks his hand away, and it ought to be because she feels guilty for forcing that reaction out of him, but it's not. She can't make herself pull away so she lowers her face instead, drops her eyes.]

Wish you hadn't stopped. Messed up, I know. Sorry.

[She swallows hard, nudges at his face with hers. Figures she owes him an explanation, even if it sucks.]

See, this is why I've been avoiding you. When I'm alone I'm so sure I can be an adult about this and just talk to you and try to help, and then when I see you I just want everything to be like it was. I wanna - sit on your floor and play with Lodewijk and listen to you go off on a tear about whoever's being a dumbass today. Want you to glare at me when I start laughing about it. I wanna know that if I decide to be a smartass and try and kiss my way out of it you're kissing me back because you want to, not because you're so messed up you can't not.