The moment he moves, she's watching him. Not warily, not with caution or suspicion, but merely watching. And then she realizes he's reaching for her, and she considers bracing.

But they are different. Not worse, maybe not even better, but different. Whatever else she's confused about, whatever else she hasn't decided, what she does know is he won't physically harm her, not intentionally. He reaches, and she shakes her fingers loose of each other on an exhale, turns her palm up towards him.

"Yeah," she agrees, quiet. "Yeah, that's something."