[ A half-hearted snort is her initial reply to all of his responses - the claim to being nice all the time, the promise, the suggestion that there isn't anything she could ask him that he'd say no to - but the skepticism is lost in the act of burying her face into him. Her sunglasses push uncomfortably against her face but it's stubbornness that keeps them there. ]

No because that's a scary thought. Someone meaner might take advantage of that you know.

[ She glances up and without thinking a hand reaches up to gently brush the side of his cheek. ]

You have to be careful. It looks like the war didn't make you any less reckless, huh?