He breathed in sharply when her hand touched his neck, eyes closing for a moment. Then they opened again, meeting hers. The coffee pot in the kitchen beeped, twice, to indicate that it was finished with half a pot (enough for two cups, at least), but he didn't move.

"I'm glad it's endearing," he said quietly. A few seconds later, he added, "...do you want any coffee? Or would you rather...?" His eyes flicked toward the couch, the bedroom, then back to the couch. He wasn't sure what they were doing here, what to suggest.