[New Year’s Eve: Hannah & Jeremiah]
There was a pause, a heart-beat where he didn't say anything. He could let it go. After all, he'd allowed it to be implied, and he felt that everything she'd said was true and was even true about him, as he attempted to be a writer and do something that was completely outside of his typical work. So yes, it was true, and yes, it would probably help him with that, but it wasn't exactly what he'd meant, and: "No, to act," he corrected. And then he let a small breath out. "Before I came here, I acted. It's true for writing too, probably, but it wasn't what I did before."
He reached an arm around her, pulling her into a sort of half hug and pressing a kiss to her hair. "I think I'm not afraid of the dark," he told her. Not after this year. He'd gone through dark places he hadn't thought was possible, and he had survived it. He wanted her to not be worried about what he might think, and he suspected that whatever it was, there were things behind the why. Certainly there had been for him and his why had not even been particularly important. It didn't make him look particularly like the type of person he liked to think of himself as being. He squeezed her hand back.
"It's almost midnight, and I'm told if we go up to the roof we can see fireworks, and they'll have champagne."