The quickness with which she closes the space between them is more comforting than he expects. They squabble so often that he realizes he has no idea how she actually feels, and he's only assumed it's safe enough because she hasn't left, but--

The peck at his cheek is so quick he could almost convince himself he dreamed it. Except she's still this close to him, apologizing.

His usual suave devil-may-care countenance is nowhere to be found. "If you are ever, ever uncomfortable, you tell me, alright?" His hands hover uselessly at his side, one drifting up to brush her shoulder. Realizing what he's doing, he pulls it back, turning away.

"I should give you some space." He isn't actually talking about the garden, or tonight.