Well, I'm sorry. It's hard to tell that you like me when that's what you call a compliment. [He says this, as if it isn't making him smile wider. He can't seem to stop laughing, and it's entirely Ned's fault. What a terrible thing.

He could help bringing the hand up from his side to brush a strand Ned's hair back, but the restraint he'd been hanging onto was all but gone.] Practice makes perfect, right? I might need loads of practice...