[She's slow to untangle herself from him, moving piece by piece as she sinks back down onto the flats of her feet, then skims her fingers along his cheek, then releases his face one hand at a time. It's an effort to stay connected as long as possible before it eventually breaks. It's the opposite of pulling away quickly.]

I feel much better, too. But I'll be careful with it. I'll call, or something, if I ever have to use it.

[And it feels like he's not going to say anything else about it, wound-up and stilted as he is, so she reaches instead for the wrapped package she'd brought with her and retrieves it, pressing it carefully into his hands.]

This one's for you. Happy birthday, Rohan. I hope you like it.