[ a telephone only in the most generous sense of the word, indeed. using it to actually call people would be slightly more familiar to heine, too, who hails from several hundred years in the future and yet somehow still uses a flip phone.

he nods agreement, gaze shifting from the device up to vanessa. she might be from a different time, but she's no fool. ] Better to assume someone is always listening. Say the important things face-to-face.

[ but at least the devices can probably be used for short messages, encrypted? (heine makes a mental note to look into that.) or for making plans to meet in person. he looks back at the device then hesitates, gaze shifting briefly to the space next to vanessa on the couch. objectively it's not far from where he's already crouching on the other side of the coffee table, but it feels like an insurmountable gap to cross.

still— ] Don't... don't move.

[ oh, what the fuck. heine takes a deep breath and comes to sit on the far end of the sofa again—closer, for ease of seeing what he's doing with the device, but still with as much distance between them as he can put. he's already come this close to losing it once this evening and he doesn't plan to do it again. ]

Like this. [ he opens the app so he can demonstrate how to use it to send a private message. ]