[ Alan huffs out a laugh, because he's surprised at how easily she's accepted that he's written the story, even though he has no memory of it. ] I mean, it has my name on it, so that counts for something. It's just insane to think of writing a story and forgetting doing it, but- well, we know things going on here are pretty insane.

[ For just a second, a flash of doubt shows in Alan's eyes. The story does have to do a lot of different things, and he's not the greatest writer who ever wrote anything. Maybe Stephen King could do this, but he's not him. ]

I don't know if I can make this happen, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try. [ His determination might be wavering by the slightest amount, but it's still there. He won't give up already. He can't.

She stops, and he pauses for a moment, but it doesn't seem to him that she's stopped because she doesn't want this anymore. But maybe it's too much too soon, and- oh. Her mouth meets his again and he can't stop himself from pressing his lips onto hers.

Instinct is mostly in the driver's seat now, and Alan's letting that instinct take him where it wants to go. He feels like he's already letting that frequency, that spark, whatever it is, direct him, and it's guiding him to keep reeling her in even closer until there's nowhere else for her to go but completely against him.

He wants to be something solid that she can hold onto or rest against if that's what she needs, and so he pulls her in, little by little, being mindful of their shared kiss and not wishing to break it too soon. But if they do break apart, he's certain they'll find their way together again quickly. ]