He's not sure what to say at first. He catches the name, so quiet that he wonders if it's his own imagination running on overdrive, but the look on her face is what tells him otherwise, tells him that what hangs between the two of them now isn't silence. It's a secret, one held close to her chest, that now suddenly breaks away and makes itself known to him. And he's overwhelmed in the wake of it, feeling his breath grow strangely shallow. His hand moves, shifts just a touch where it rests on his knee, and although he doesn't know to acknowledge it as such, there's a pull on Mark's end that tells him that he should embrace her. Now. That he should mold himself into normalcy, not leave quiet hanging in the air.

But he can't, because that's not him. Instead, he just surveys her, presses his lips tightly together, and resolves to keep this secret for her, too.

"Krista," he nods. "It's a pretty name. Suits you."