[ She doesn't know whether he's bargaining because he's frightened of the vastness of what she's offering, or because he's frightened of telling her 'no'. Either way, she thinks fear is motivating him. Or demotivating him, as the case may be.

She stays close, not giving him an inch of space to think she's disappointed, or leaving, or retracting her offer. The brush of her fingers pauses only minutely as he speaks, and then resumes, as tender as before. That was true: nothing changes. She loves him just as much as she did a moment ago.

And she's going to keep trying. Her voice softens, turns soothing, opening a door for him to be comforted. ]

It's a lot to take in. I'm asking a lot from you, and offering change in return. That's terrifying. But I've got you, and I'm not giving up on you.

[ She knows how expanses can be frightening. She gets that. And she knows how badly his head aches, and how every nerve is screaming for whiskey, and right now it's not quite enough to offer indistinct and uncertain futures in exchange for alcohol. ]

Don't leave it for later. At least promise to start thinking it over. For me? Because I love you?