He had heard the steps that stopped in front on the door, and the world seemed to slow down, and the door opened and he felt suddenly rooted to the floor where he stood. He was just as silent, and was worried that he would stay so. He was so focused on what he was trying to say, working out sentences, predicting responses and counters and explanations that when she commented about 'the naked guy' he laughed. He couldn't even stop himself and he covered his mouth, though it didn't help. Looking her in the eye did and he sobered up pretty quickly as whatever nerves her comment had masked came back out in full force. Her smile was there, the one that he loved -for there was no other word he would rather use- and he smiled back reflexively, even his nerves unable to prevent it.
"No, there isn't," he said. He wanted to say something light, but it was a struggle for even that sentence, and he had never been naturally funny and still wasn't even when he tried. He was the kind of guy that killed a party when he walked in. Jake had always been the one to liven a room, and he had always, most certainly, been better at talking. Brennan tended to end up just disappearing off to the side, drinking and ignoring anyone that came up to him.
This was certainly much harder than he could have imagined. All the scenarios in his head had all worked into unfavorable conclusions and none of the things he had thought about were bubbling up. But he couldn't just stand there and stare at her. Looking away from her didn't help, but neither did meeting her eyes.
How did people do this? Stand face-to-face with someone and tell them all of this without feeling like the entire weight on the world was bearing down on them. And he knew his hesitation wasn't because he questioned his feelings for her, that he was acting to keep her near him for some selfish reason. If he could coordinate his heart, mind and body, he would be able to tell Kate that he was in love with her. He could barely comprehend still that this had even happened to him. He resisted the urge to start pacing and tried to keep his hands from visibly trembling as his mind reminded him that his voice probably would to.
He would sound just as pathetic as he most likely looked and his brain was racing through another rash of scenes, that he was doing this all wrong, that it was too early and this was only going to end terribly. How was he supposed to start this? He couldn't just drop those three words without a preamble, could he? Was there a process or steps he should follow.
Brennan met her eyes again, hoping that he would be able to say something.
"Kate." His voice seemed stable enough. Maybe this was one of those 'say it all in one breath' kind of moments, a 'say everything before you can take it back or rethink it' moment. His brain created and processed a few starting lines before dumping them and just attempting the 'just say it' method. "I love you."