[he shifts in her arms so he can look up into her face. He thinks for several moments.]
Oh.
[that's all that comes out; the only sound he can really make while his brain tries to fit the right words together—words that can reassure PM and reassure himself and be right all at the same time—and comes up extremely short. His chest feels a bit tight, and his stomach is starting to hurt. He realizes that he needs to remember how to breathe; it suddenly seems much more difficult.]
[their surroundings fade into a muted fog; all that matters is PM, and the broken thoughts tumbling around in his head.]
...Oh.
[he swallows]
And... and he loves you. That is plain. And... you love him, and you love me.