[ John had taken his admission and upped the ante tremendously. All the things Harold has never told anyone before are personal to him, but the fact about him and Grace drinking coffee is totally innocuous; the emotional weight to it is light and detached, something that touches him but doesn't have a stranglehold. Not at all like what John admits. It reminds him, strangely and poignantly, of erasing the Machine's memories and then regretting it immediately. Only understanding the action as a true loss after he'd already taken it.

There's a moment of silence as Harold thinks how over to respond, taken aback, but then he recovers. ] I didn't give Grace a choice either, [ he notes, somber. He doesn't consider himself any better than John in this regard.

It seems necessary to lighten things now but he struggles with how to do it. ]

... I could try coffee again sometime, if you'd like. Perhaps with you I can form a new association.

[ Is that too much? Too bold, too presumptive? Harold can't think of another way to tell John how much he has a place here, how Harold would never listen to him if he told him not to wait anyway, how he knows he has a tracker on his glasses and even if he ever walks away he's okay with John finding him. That does seem like far too much to say. But is even this too far? ]