He feels that, the pressure against his chest, like a dull ache that rips through his center to the spot where she's touching. It gets his heart to beat a little quicker, something he feels residually as well. Slowly, he processes her words through the blood rushing in his ears and shakes his head gently side-to-side.

"That's not what I meant, Karen." It's soft, not argumentative for once. If anything, he's only mad at himself.