There's something to that. Not the drop of his gaze shifting from her face again, but that too too low note that takes her name like somehow it knows it too well, and it's a key she doesn't need to be told the shape of. It's impressed a little too deep right now, and maybe it's too her, but she is not sure she could handle what would happen if that key ended up in the keyhole her new memories already proved it fits; what she would do if it unlocked everything behind it.

From then, or from now.

All of it feels a few breaths away if she just looked to her other side. Which is why she didn't stay in her room, and it's why she doesn't look toward it even now, sitting in the room with it. Instead, she lifted the hand between them, arm moving against his, and tapped his thigh. Not light. Not requesting. Like it was an impatient point of order, and she made her voice a little more strident than it had been a few ago.

"We don't really need to have the conversation about how, given I'm the person who just got to die twice in the last day—" Without dying, too; what a delightful feat to avoid doing again; all of it. (Except.) "—I'm pretty sure I should have the longer face of the two of us, right?"