That's fine by him. "It's more than made up for, trust me."

"How?" she murmurs, the dangerous word tumbling from her lips before she thinks to snap them shut.

"—shit, no, I'm sorry," she says in a rush, wincing. "I didn't mean to—sometimes my mouth goes ahead of my brain and I'm sorry."

"—uh...?"

She winces again, guilt flooding her heart, she did not mean to say that, and it probably hurt him very much—

—but if she buys into his story and imagines her perfect partner, it would hurt him so much more to recant and stop talking and keep all of her thoughts to herself. It'd be a truly damning admission of a lack of trust. That's not what a relationship should be like. She's sincere about trying to maybe date the vampire, and that involves talking about her feelings to him.

So instead of saying she didn't mean that, she tries to clarify what she did mean.

"I. Y-you dwarf me in age and experience and power," she says, to her lap. "I wrote to my brother to corroborate your story, but it'll be weeks before I get a reply. From an, an outside perspective, you could. Be making up whatever you like, say all the things I want to hear with your century of practice at w-wooing women, win your way into my heart and my bed to prove you can, and I don't mean to say I think this of you, but I don't know how to. To not be frightened and not worry about what some theoretical vampire could theoretically do and just trust you."

"—oh."

Yvette scrunches inward and presses four little crescents into each palm with her fingernails, before she realizes that this could result in open blood and that she's near a vampire. Instead she folds her hands together where they will safely not accidentally draw blood in a fit of guilt and angst.

"I'm sorry," she adds, again, because that seems important to say.

"I—no—you should not be sorry. It's my fault for even giving you that impression in the first place. I—" And he seems to run out of words.

"You've been nothing but sweet and thoughtful since you realized you were in magical vampire love with me," she defends. "A lot of this is leftovers from the shitty introduction and, realistic acknowledgement of the power disparity that doesn't have anything to do with anything you've actually done, and, and a general fear of getting my heart broken."

"Oh, Yvette, I would never—not on purpose—"

"I'm sorry, I—" she doesn't say she knows, because she doesn't, because the whole problem is that she doesn't completely trust him and doesn't know how to start, so instead she goes with, "I'm not trying to accuse you of mistreating me or being callous or using me or. I'm just. I'm scared. Because what if I believe you and then I'm wrong?"

"I—I'm sorry—how can I—" He makes an aborted gesture to hug her and looks indecisive.

Well that just seems ridiculous to her, so she hugs him.

"Time?" she offers. "As in, time spent reassuring me that you're who you say you are, and that you're sincere and not cleverly manipulating me with your superior resources?"

"Okay. I can do time." Then he laughs, a bit nervously. "I am bad at clever manipulation. You saw what I was like when I... tried."

She huffs a little laugh and then presses a kiss to his cheek.

"Yeah. It's not a very well-founded fear, just." She snuggles him thoughtfully. "... I guess I realized how appealing the idea of having someone that loved me unconditionally forever and always was? And that I liked you very much and that it'd hurt to. Lose all of that."

"You will never. Not for as long as you want me."

"Well, good." Her tone lightens and she jokes, "Because we've known each other for a whole week, obviously we should know by now that we'll be together forever. That's how it works, right, skip the step about learning about each other and getting used to each other?"

He shrugs. "That strategy has something to it, I would recommend trying it."

Snort. "Pass. Impossible to implement without mind control, you'll just have to stick with the long way around."

"The horror."

"How ever will you tolerate spending so much time with me!" She kisses his cheek.

Then she hesitates and looks self conscious.

"... it's not too horrible, is it? Waiting?"

"You are giving me so much more than I deserve. Every moment with you is worth a thousand days of waiting, and every time I look at you I have to force myself to look away. It is an indescribable delight to be in your presence and the ultimate honor to be able to enjoy your company and bask in your attention."

"Oh," she says in a small voice, blinking. She presses a brief, affectionate kiss to his lips, then settles down in his arms for snuggles. "Okay."

So many snuggles!

"And I have to admit that there is a part of me that enjoys the thing where I slowly win your heart and get you to fall in love with me as much as I love you."

"Aww. I can see that. Having my heart won is similarly enjoyable, just. High stakes and therefore scary."