He doesn't answer for a long moment, instead letting his eyes flutter shut as her fingers work their magic, a soft sigh escaping his lips. Memories of the very creative ways his younger self had imagined getting her out of the dress she'd worn a couple of nights ago flit through his mind, unbidden, and the corners of his mouth lift in a ghost of a smile.

"I was," he says simply, though the admission is necessarily loaded. "And I do. Remember everything. The past couple of days..." He trails off, opening his eyes to meet hers. "I don't even know where to start. If I should feel angry, or... Or glad."