It will be entirely worth it for both of us when we're completely free. [ He tugs at his wrist, which is still unfortunately stuck, caught on the vines. Though by this point, he has to support some of his own weight, resting his foot on a particularly thick vine.

...He thinks about what he just said, though. Is his kissing just not—"worth" enough?! Is that why they're still stuck here?! He swallows, preempting any bile from rising in his throat and spoiling things even further. He suddenly feels as if that might be a danger. ]

And I suppose you're the arbiter of what kisses are worth doing? [ His voice is wary—darkly uncertain. He feels like a cornered animal, lost without any strategy. So, fittingly, he continues as if he were raising his hackles, with a hint of a growl: ] If you think we're missing something here, say so directly.