He relaxes a bit into her hands, into her kisses that he missed this morning, when she was too drugged to return the affection he desperately showered her with. "It looks alright? I don't want it scarring."

He reaches up and takes her hand in his, rubbing a thumb over her slender wrist, closing his eyes. The distance between them wanes and then vanishes as he pulls her closer. "Alright. I don't suppose you're well enough to go get a light dinner."

He feels a bit like a caged animal, all anger and anxiety with no outlet, and wants to at least walk or drive a while.