He laughs when she pulls away and calls him perfect. The laugh is pushed through his tears, smiling and crying and giggling madly because nothing could quite prepare him for this.

"Y-you don't know me very well," he says with a stutter and reaches up to dry his nose to his sleeve, rub it until it's reasonably dry and he can lean in to kiss her cheek. "Thank you for everything. If we'll never get to speak with each other again, I am so thankful for what you did for me. You saved my life more times than I can count."