[ The logical part of his mind intrudes that it will end badly. After all, what do you even say at a moment like this? Sorry I was a jerk. I'll try to be 40% less of one. Let's try again? Hei is good with weaving webs of words. But not at honesty. He can tell her a sob-story as part of a campaign to deepen an attachment, to warp her objectivity, cloud her judgement. But that feels like cheating. It already is cheating. That's why he's chosen this exact moment -- when she's shook up, unsteady on her pins -- to descend here like a caricature of a Worried Friend. ]

I know this isn't a good time. I'm just -- [ I'm what? Experiencing the equivalent of seller's remorse? He can't sell her the line he's only barely buying himself. He doesn't know how to begin what he wants to say, or even if he wants to say it. ] Breaking it off with you was -- I was hasty. I thought it was for the best. Now I'm not so sure. It's just -- [ He stops, frowning. Jams his hands in deeper into his coat pockets, not looking at her. ] You're either going to walk away. Or you're not hearing a word I say at all. Either option is perfectly understandable.

[ Is that hint of uncertainty genuine? Or is he playacting? Even Hei isn't sure. ]