She presses a hand to her mouth and watches him. Watches him breathe and fidget and smiles against her fingers. He's volunteering a lot of information, and part of her wonders if it's not a stall, trying to avoid starting the clock again while the lift keeps moving.

"Thank you," she drawls, drawing on Heather. It's the way the girl was raised; to tell someone when they're important to you, to thank them when they do something for you. It's something he'll have heard before, and it'll drive her crazy.

"That's going to be a hard act to follow."