[Oh man, she's so disarmingly cute when she's eager and enthusiastic like that, and Michael bites at his lower lip, completely at a loss -- because let's be real, he's never given any real thought to the possibility of Iona sitting this close to him in his bed. He tells himself not to overthink it, but it's easier said than done.]

It's a mattress that's... served me well...?

[An internal groan follows. Really, self? He closes his eyes and sighs, then gives her an apologetic smile.]

That came out weird. Sorry I'm so awkward, I'm just not used to being this close to a pretty girl.

[At least he can make a quick little save with a compliment that also doubles as the truth.]