It was -

[ How did it start? He knows that he should probably have a clearer memory of it, of who really initiated. But the first time they'd really spoken it aloud, defined what it was, was when Byerly came to Bastien and said that things were changing. ]

Something that just happened. We started screwing around. And then later realized that it was something rather larger than that.

[ I am. He stares down at his feet, his hands stilling. I am afraid. One part of his heart screams that he told her, he told her that he was a poor man to have around. He told her that he was difficult and cold and clumsy in the ways of love. That he would be injurious and incapable. He told her that he wasn't worth the trouble; what right has she now to get upset, that he told her the truth? That his promises weren't just coy lies designer to make him a more enticing prey? And the other part of his heart just wants to weep until there's no water left in him and he expires like a dry man in a desert.

He forces himself to resume the progress of pulling on his shirt. ]

Why does it matter?