Those first two words are like a hook in Stede’s chest, tugging at the hope he still hasn’t been able to quite shake. He hadn’t wanted Ed to agree and tell him to fuck off. Just because he’d respect it doesn’t mean it wouldn't have devastated him.

But he hadn’t said it. That’s a start.

He waits while Ed then mulls things over, trying not to fidget or prattle on in the interim. He’s very close to breaking when the man finally speaks again, and says Stede’s name. It’s likely good he isn’t looking, because Stede has no idea what his face is doing in that moment.

“I do think it’s been more than five minutes anyway,” he admits. “So yes. I’d like that very much, at least if you don’t mind going out in that.” Another glance down, then a quick look away. He spots a towel on a nearby chair and snatches it up, mentally making a note to come back and return it later.

“If you want it,” he offers, holding it out.