This one he did manage to develop the courage to touch, at least for a second as he rapidly swiped it right off of the table and into the grass where neither of them would have to think about it and/or feel bad/uncomfortable/hot in the face. "It's okay, it's just practice," he insisted quickly with as much rigid authority as he could when he felt his voice might break. "How about some tea for now, would you like some tea? I can get you a pot, just wait here and at a table and I'll bring a pot." He didn't even wait to find out what kind she might want before rushing off to the kitchen, sticky hands held stiffly at his sides like a scarecrow. Why was that so weird, how had he made someone feel bad over food?