Yeah, what is wrong with them? They have the urge to laugh. But it's not funny. They do their best to swallow it; it comes out thin and quiet and aspirated.

"I... did. There is nothing wrong with me."

They sound like they trying not to tell the biggest fib of their life, posture stiff. They start unconsciously rubbing their bite, notice, and grip their hands tight together.

"Besides, is it not true?"

Isn't it? There really is nothing to be sorry for, isn't there? The jangling catches their attention, and their head snaps towards it.