"You're not me, I'm me."

The joke slips out just before a crushing wave of sudden self-consciousness that they Weren't Talking immediately prior to Undine's death.

Fuck.

Darcy withdraws just a little, feeling the urge to run his hands and arms under hot water if only so he won't touch her again.

"Ehn," he starts and finds himself unable to finish, shock and excitement drying up.