He tenses when she kisses him, not used to much in the way of intimate, physical contact. It's familiar, his response the same the first time she'd touched him when they'd been alone together two years ago, and thankfully brief, and then he's returning the kiss, his shoulders slumping in something like relief. He's still afraid -- afraid that he'll hurt her, that she'll change her mind, something, anything to ruin him finally getting his way after something like six years -- but he can't back away. He can't lose her again because of something he did.

"I'll try and keep that in mind," he tells her as he breaks the kiss finally, his forehead resting against hers.