Careful is what keeps them alive, he thinks, but even that isn't that easy. Careful helps, but it's never been a guarantee, and there's been times when recklessness was the only thing that saved the day. It's easier to risk when it's only life or death, somehow.

With her arms around him it feels less awkward, and he responds by pulling her tighter against him, his arm slipping further around her waist. He can almost let himself believe that this is normal. He's not thinking of running, now, for once; not unless she sends him off, which it doesn't seem like she's planning on.

But his pace doesn't change so much. It's not that he's holding back, he's just taking his time, trying to sort out what this means or at least enjoy it if he can't know. Time was, maybe, it would've been different, rushed and hot and heavy; back when the world was still around, back when he was younger. This is... intimate, and the truth is that's kind of new to him.

On the other hand, as he shifts to bring his other hand down from her jaw to rest on her waist as well, he might just cop a feel.

He's human, okay.