[Oh, hm. It's a little ominous, the way she offers him the opal with zero context. That doesn't stop him from closing his hand over the opal, though.

And, hey, this is not at all what he was expecting, and thank god for that. This is a happy memory, and he gets to see Robert—which, damn if that isn't mildly disorienting. Newt can't quite tell if Robert's comfortable familiarity is due to the memory's influence or just because Robert is Rosalind, when you get down to it.

It's both fascinating and bittersweet, watching them dance together. He can't fathom having to deal with a loss like that. Losing his family hurts like hell, but it's a distinctly different thing to share a life with another person.]

He's cute.

[Of course it'd be that, of all the things he's thinking and feeling in the wake of Rosalind's memory, that first comes tumbling out of his mouth. But that's what you say when someone shows you their significant other, and also, it's patently true, like, look at him—but goddammit you can't tell a girl you think her double is cute it just makes you look like an idiot. He flushes faintly, barreling forward before she can call attention to it.]

Uh, hey, it's awesome that you have that now. It's a nice memory. Wow, and you two really are identical.

[No, god.]

I mean, I get what you were saying before. How he enjoys frivolity more, hah.