The things he mentioned, those were some of the things she'd always loved about the era he'd lived in. It was something she'd emphasized in her literature courses when they read things set during that era - she'd shared visuals with the class so they could properly understand the cultural contexts. The women really had always looked so put together, and for a moment she felt nervous about what Steve would think about how she usually looked, when she wasn't all dolled up for a date.

She didn't let it sit in her mind for long, though. This wasn't the time for those thoughts. This was the time for her to set her plate off to the side and in against him. She slid one arm around his back, leaning her cheek against his shoulder, and smoothed her other hand along his arm. "You don't have to apologize," she told him softly. "I have times like that myself." She didn't elaborate; she couldn't. Those times were when she saw a city burned to ash, all the faces around her attached to corpses piled a dozen feet high. He didn't need to know that about the world she'd come from, didn't need to know the things that haunted her sleep.