[ It's a comfort to see her smile, but not nearly as much of one as he'd hoped. It does give him reason for gladness to hear that she can at least look back on their encounter without feeling as though she'd taken advantage of him, and yet, it still doesn't feel like enough. No, it's not nearly enough, and that is still unbearable to him.

His mind races with a million thoughts. Would she still be so full of self-doubt if he'd properly courted her first, or if they'd at least had time to talk things over before getting into it? Would it have helped if he'd taken his time more, no matter how pent up and impatient the both of them had become? For a moment, it feels as though he might be swallowed up by these what-ifs, these doubts plaguing the recesses of his mind.

But there's that sweet smile, not as happy as he'd like, but a smile nonetheless. And there's that lovely voice, thanking him for something that warrants no thanks whatsoever; calling herself faded, when nothing could be further from the truth in his eyes.

He can't bear it any longer. He can't make the years of loneliness and doubt go away, but he can do his damned best to try and make sure there aren't any more of them. He steps from the bed and closes the distance between them until their chests meet, and one hand moves to take hers. ]

Faded? Manuela, I have been unable to take my eyes off of you since I was scarcely even a man. You are more beautiful now than ever, and I will not rest until you have no choice but to concede the point.

[ And with that, he brings her hand up to his mouth. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses her fingers just beneath her knuckles, then presses a second kiss to the back of her hand. He might not be able to convince her, but at the very least, he can convince her that he won't be dissuaded. ]