Finally, thank God, he relaxes. At least physically, at least a little bit. It lets something in her relax in turn, and she echoes his sigh softly.

This is all new, but it doesn't feel that way. Maybe it's just being put through the wringer earlier-- or maybe it's more proof that whatever they are to each other, even where-- when-- she's from, they're already most of the way here.

She considers the offer for a long while-- long enough that, maybe, he'll think she isn't going to answer. Maybe even that she fell asleep, though she hasn't. Her breathing evens out, the confessional darkness calm and quiet.

"There must have been good times," she says softly. "Tell me about those."