If he was to be honestly, he'd have to admit to himself that for a short while he'd considered his need for her pathetic. Why couldn't he just love himself on his own, like Firefly seemed to? But the question meant nothing to him now. He did love himself on his own, he just needed her help to get there. It was like learning to read. He needed someone to teach him, and now that he knew, he did it on his own all the time. He thought it must be the same for Savina, or else she would not have been able to get through the rough spots of the past year. Strength came from inside, not from someone else; others simply helped where they could.
He would not allow their night together to turn out badly. So he wasn't worried about it. He didn't actually know what her response would be; he hoped she wouldn't be angry with him, and when he looked at her face he found no such emotion there. This relieved him; more so, even, than when she accepted his little proposal. Kansas grinned and planted a kiss on her pretty cheek. "It'll be fine," he assured her, and meant it. He wouldn't have said so if he didn't believe it himself, and surely there would have been an intonation of regret and hesitancy in his voice. But there was only relaxed gaiety.
The boy fished a knife from his bag (thank God he'd remembered to grab one), drove the tip of the blade into the cork, and pulled it awkwardly out with a nice pop. "Uh...Oh," grabbing one of the crystal glasses and giving to to her. "For you, miss Juliet," he teased softly. He poured first a glassful for her, then one for himself. Looking into her eyes as he drank, he noticed not the sickly sweet flavor and only the beauty of the sparkling jewels. He felt his head spin, and it wasn't the alcohol. He poured himself another glass. "How is it?"