[She stares at him for a moment, silence hanging between them as she narrows her gaze. What a question— why wouldn't they remember the same things? Unless, by some chance, she had been passed out for even longer than she'd realized— a distinct possibility after everything that had happened, to be perfectly honest.]

Paris. The Peace Accords.

[Her shoulders stiffen visibly, but her gaze never leaves his face, studying him.]

You shooting me and using the bullet to drag me across the square so you could finish the job, if you've forgotten the specifics.