[ He's quiet, observing the path her fingertips make almost more than he feels them. But he does feel them, the temperance of her warmth undaunted over the coarse topology of his skin. A little like being lead to water, or to light. He has the wherewithal to think it's a gentleness undeserved, but he keeps that to himself.

Making him drink is another matter, even if he thinks about it. ]

I see. If I had to take a guess... [ When her touch arrives back to the divots of his fingers, he tips her hand into his, clasping it lightly. With a bend of his elbow, it brings it upward to press the line of her knuckles to his burning cheek. Just slightly askew of his lips, though he can still speak the words into her skin. ] You really know just what to do to make someone feel better.

[ That dim red centered in his eyes winks out when he shuts them in thought, a satisfied downturn at the sensation. He's ready to let it go in the same instance, grip slacking. ]

I can say, though. I'm glad it happened to be me this time.