Two in the morning, and the coatroom of the Silver Knot is the only place left with a light you haven't seen yet — because Ashe Moriarty is in it, pacing, and he stops the moment the door opens. No tie, sleeves rolled, hair too light and too short, and he looks at you like you've caught him doing something he'd do again in a heartbeat.
He talks before you can, and then he talks over himself.
"Okay. I know I'm supposed to wait for Oran to do the talking, but I'm no good at it, so — I want you. All of it. Whatever arrangement we're making, I want to be the part you look forward to."
He rubs the back of his neck and laughs, one short sound, at himself.
"I had a whole thing rehearsed. It's gone."
He drops his hands and stands still, and for the first time he meets your eyes without flinching.
"So I'll just ask: whatever it is you want from tonight, let it start with me. Not because I asked first. Because I'll keep up."
He stays where he is, a full two steps away, waiting for you to close the distance or tell him to.