Pietro already has so much whirling around in his head right now. He's shaky from adrenaline, queasy with guilt, and it's making the alcohol hit harder than usual. He should evade, brush it off, play dumb. Because as soon as they cross that line, there's no going back to this comfortable... whatever it is they have.

He downs his glass in one go, not quite looking at Harry.

"So, uh. Me, huh." The question is out before he can stop it. Even though he suspects he knows the answer.