He doesn't notice her leaning back in; the circumstances of this are too distracting for him to make any effort to appreciate what's going on. In the grand scheme of things it's a pretty terrible kiss, between him fighting it just because he doesn't like being told what to do, and her utter shock. It's a damn shame. For all that he's not certain he wants to kiss her, he's also not certain he doesn't, and that's a first for today. For a long while, really.

It's a damn good thing she knows him well enough to know there's a danger of him running off. He'd like to think he'd have the decency not to, but he's always had that habit of lashing out; if she'd pushed him away, could be he'd leave. Break everything off to save face. He'd feel like shit about it, but he's an ass when he's hurt, and Carol-- she's important enough to scare him.

But she holds onto him, and so he doesn't move, letting out a slow, shuddering breath and letting her set the distance between them. His hand's still on her side, the only thing about this that isn't uncertain and uncomfortable, like he's forgotten about it being there.

It's not as abrupt, this time, the letdown; or maybe it is and he doesn't notice because he's so unsure of what this might be if it's anything at all. He only belatedly realizes he's under his own control again, after she speaks.

His gaze flickers upward, like he's looking just past her, at the blossom in her hair.

"Flowers," he says, like that's an explanation.