[He lets himself be led to the bedroom, leaving his shirt in the other room. Once they arrive, he kicks off his boots, giving her a thoughtful frown at her words.]

Things never do seem to work out when I take my companions home. I'm sorry.

[He'd tried to take Lucie back to Blackpool for Christmas, and she ended up getting hit by a car, nearly dying, finding out that he'd lied to her to protect her and ultimately leaving him, saying she could no longer trust him. Home and family never did work out...]

You hadn't met your-- oh.

[He is still fuzzy from the cleansing, but he does manage to catch himself halfway through. A hand rakes through his curls and he grimaces.]

I suppose the upside of it is that, like this place, you had that extra time with your fauther that you would have never had before. And unlike this place, you get to remember it.

[And then he glances to the bed, then down to himself. Jeans are not the most comfortable things to sleep in, but does he have the guts to strip down to his boxers? Does she even want him to do that?

Another little ridiculous thought of trying to be romantic by sweeping her up and settling her in bed crosses his mind, before logic kicks in and reminds him that it would be rather difficult with her being almost exactly the same height as him. The leverage would just be all wrong. Why did this body have to be so short?]

So...ah...after you?