Perhaps you will not believe me, but... truly it is enough to hear so.

[ She turns to talk into his hair again. ]

I must be told things, sometimes. I cannot read you as I do others; what I want to be true, what I fear to be true, they are in the way. I cannot trust myself to interpret you aright, and so sometimes you must say what you think you have told me some other way. [ Wryly, in proper homage to the ancient battle of 'how could you not have known': ] Even if you think you have shouted it from the rooftops.

[ A soft sigh through her nose. ]

I wish to make you happy too.