"Six." It's quickly becoming the answer he can always fall back on. Because if she's okay, then he is too, and if this is something that helps, then it's something he can do. For as far as they've come, it's a huge step that he can even entertain the idea of physical contact for that long, let alone carry it out, and that's so, so significant in ways that he can't put into words. Partners. Partners look out for each other, this is looking out for her. And it's easier and easier every time. He'll never be completely alright, but he can at least try.

As she pulls away, the kitten latches onto his sleeve, and now he's stuck with a stubborn Jellybean who's very loudly letting the world know that she's not happy, and that helps to break away some of the lingering feelings in the back of his skull. Wrath raises a good point though, and there's a moment where he fights internally on whether or not it's a good idea-

"Carry?"

Well, fuck it.