"It's not that," he protests, then goes speechless and freezes like a startled animal when she leans forward.

When she settles back again, he draws a careful breath, and nods in answer to her question.

"I'm okay. And it's not your fault. You shouldn't have to worry about -- that asking questions might -- fuck," he hisses again, frustrated with himself.

He makes himself breathe through it for another moment or two, then, finally:

"I know why it happens. I can explain. If that helps."