"... Is it that late?" I guess I thought it was morning, but maybe it isn't yet. How late did we get back from the restaurant? Either way I'm not averse to the idea, "yes, of course." So I climb down onto the futon and stretch out. I should let him take up more of the room, he's bigger than me, I can just sort of fit in beside him.

He's being awfully formal about this. I guess he doesn't want to do anything without my consent. And I'm touched that he's being so careful with me, but I also worry that he's still hung up on last night. We all do things when we're drunk (I don't, not usually, but there's a first time for everything.) I should say something about it only I don't want to bring it up again and sour the atmosphere.