[ Poe looks at John properly, somewhere between hurt, angry, and confused. It's not a nice cocktail, and even as he tries to keep it to himself, he doesn't do a very good job. He never does a good job of hiding his emotions. ]

That's not-- I'm not doing it because I have to do it, or because I think I have to. I thought-- I thought--

[ Poe falters. Force, was he wrong? Does John not think of what happened out there the same way he does? ]

I wanted to do it right this time. I wanted to do it right. If there's gonna be an us, I mean, if you wanted. You don't have to.

[ He can feel heat in his cheeks and is glad, not for the first time, that his blushes don't really show. Talk about embarrassing.

He clears his throat, trying for all he's worth to sound casual. ]

I'll let you get back to.... [ Work? ] ...to what you were doing.