[He nods - Barely there, not wanting to disrupt the touch too much - and thinks about it. Thinks about everything. It means a lot, that he cares so much, that he wants to make it work. It makes his stomach light and his chest hot and his eyes get a little wet, even though he tries to fight it. Doesn't want them to. Not that he's upset, far from it - Just that it's a lot and he doesn't really know how to handle it. So he just sniffs and balls himself up as small and close as he can until he can settle himself enough to find the words.

But it's hard. Being sincere is really hard. So he forces a soft laugh instead.] Sorry - Wish I came with a manual myself, sometimes.

[And then, as an afterthought:] Just... This? Is fine. I can handle being dealt with like this.