[Ilsa stares at him for what feels like much longer than just a few short seconds, disbelief crossing her features because how did they end up with such a stupid misunderstanding between them? Always so clear-headed, aware of the other, and all this confusion, all this inner turmoil has been happening because of, what...? A miscommunication?

Those seconds pass, and Ilsa pauses the conversation to dig into the cupboards for something. From them, she takes out a small jar of peanut butter, a spoon from the drawer, and takes a small scoop of it. Valo, who has been so patiently sitting and waiting for someone to notice him immediately lights up, his tail thumping against the floor as she approaches.]

May I?

[With his permission, of course.

But regardless of whether he allows it, she'll continue, distracting herself with the dog either way.]

I was... worried about you after you left. Your head wasn't exactly on straight that night, either.

[Except Ilsa knows he's likely seeking more than that, and she has more to give. She just needs another moment to figure out how to word it—not something she does often when she simply says what's on her mind.]

I thought that maybe you had wanted to stay.