Darcy finds the concern and the comfort flattering, but is in possession of just enough sense not to admit as much. "Makes sense," is much easier to say. And about a thousand times less awkward for the both of them.

When they arrive outside her room finally, she fidgets at the door. "Well, this is me." It sounds lame coming out of her mouth, and she doesn't quite stop the wince that accompanies the desire to be able to go back in time just a few seconds so she can take it back. Say something way more smooth than that. "I, ah..." Well, don't start now or anything. "Thanks. Again. For probably the billionth time, and it's still not enough." Jesus, Darcy. She catches herself staring at his mouth and snaps her eyes back up just a little too quickly to shrug that off entirely. "If you wanted to check up on me later... That would be okay."