He turns his head, just so slightly, because there is a measure of manners in him, a measure that states that he needs to pay attention to whoever he is speaking to. He trusts her, then, to not lead him into anything, to not make him seem a fool or foolish.

His hand curls around her arm, twining them together.

"No crime, simply being the source of any distraction." He considers it, for a moment. He has been waiting because in a way, to Oriencor, he is a danger, something she devours in whole, consumes with all her attention. So she locks him out. He knows it is because of what he looks like, it is his beauty that causes her to treat him this way.

It is not unappealing.

"And it is wearying, to sit outside and wait for her, and I forgot my coursework."