( he says it so casually — we need to deal with that, like her presence here is some plague on his existence that needs to be remedied before it gets out of hand — but all she can do is wince, picking up the offered cup of coffee and lifting it to her lips for a much-needed sip. it also offers the benefit of hiding much of her expression, allowing her a few extra seconds to figure out what she's going to say. )

Well. It's probably too late for that. ( which sounds a little harsh, she realizes, as the words echo in her head; kimberly's quick to follow up with an explanatory: ) I mean. It's already kind of weird, that's all.

( he did sort of do the it's not you, it's me breakup thing the last time they'd seen each other, and she may or may not have spent the better part of the evening afterwards crying and trying her best not to run into him... but that was then. things were better now, weren't they, for both of them. they'd moved in different directions, but good ones too. there was no reason things had to stay uncomfortable, right? )

I — ( sigh. ) — if it's weird for you, for me to be here, I don't have to be. I would understand.