Astoria had let her eyes drift shut again, when the unanticipated sensation of Malcolm's cool fingers against her shoulder drew her back to attention. Her eyes parted again slightly, feeling ill at ease with the touch and sudden intensity in his voice.
"I... that's... really sweet," she responded weakly, too shaken to even think of a different adjective to use for his actions this time around. She gazed uncomfortably at the fire and then down at her clasped hands-- at anything it seemed, except for him. At length, Astoria broke the awkward silence, her voice gentle but firm. White lies were a typical currency for her, but she sensed that this was one of the rare instances where frankness and total honesty were superior tools. "I wasn't lying when I said I cared about you Mal, but I don't feel that way about you." She gave a little apologetic shrug of her shoulders, finally shifting on the cushion to regard him rather than the fireplace, but allowing her gaze to linger in the vicinity of his chin rather than meet his eyes.
"You're a wonderful friend, and I'm sure you'd be an equally wonderful boyfriend to some other girl."