[she's not used to pressure meaning comfort, but ... she likes it, just like she does in just about any other form. Aeon threads her fingers with his on an instinct, and squeezes back.]

It was so easy for me to do this, when I didn't remember who I was. When I could just ... [-'love you'-] ... trust what I was feeling. Do you really think it could still be that easy, here? ... Do I deserve easy?