She nods, reassured. She'd never push for anything and never assume, even if he offered anything, without being sure. But she is now. It makes her lean up to press her lips to his cheek.

"Okay. Thank you." Her fingers creep over his, moving to pick out a melody on the screen. Something all too familiar and close to her heart, Bach's Minuet in G Major. The backbone, rearranged, of the first song he ever coaxed out of her all those days who on the edge of a park fountain.

"But only when you're not working, I don't want to be a nuisance."