*It's almost enough. He's not attacking her, not accusing, and that's what makes all the difference, and for just a second, she lets herself see the truth in what he's saying. For a second, she's willing to look at the fact that maybe needing it this badly means it's got her by the tail, and not the other way 'round anymore. That it's not about having a laugh at all. Maybe.

The hard, stubborn set of her pretty features softens ever so slightly, and she shifts her weight back toward her chair. Rose opens her mouth, and then the door to the flat swings open.*