( There's a relief that settles into his own body, as his hug is reciprocated. It means that he's relaxing, too, the tension leaving his shoulders, his face turning a little more against her shoulder as he hugs tighter. If he minds the urgent, tight way she's squeezing him, he doesn't show it at all.

After a moment, he speaks. )

...See? Isn't this fine? ( There's still a trace of fear, even behind the calm, that quiet worry of rejection— but they've come this far. )

Stop worrying about what I should or shouldn't think, what I do or don't deserve. ...Stupid.

( That last word is very soft, very fond. )