[He wants to draw her in. He wants to smooth her hair. He wants to apologize again which is the least stupid of those ideas. He holds back from it all.]

Worth a try... if you wish to... Can be like snowbirds... south for winter...

[He'd be more certain if he couldn't hear the notes of defeat in his voice. It doesn't mean much, to travel again. He has no connection here. He'll be safe, either way. His connection is to her. Whether she'll be safe staying or going is another matter entirely.

She starts to comb out the hair nearer to the front. He forces himself to be still, his breathing shallower. This is a little less relaxing, several different kinds of anxieties stirring to the surface. But she's careful and it's fine and it's still not all that bad.

When she stops, he looks to see her closer and turns her way. He takes the comb she offers and offers a small smile in return.]

It's okay... I don't either...

[With some of that ease returned, he gets to work, carefully combing bit by bit and untangling each piece by hand. Can't infect hair, he tells himself. It's okay.]

Not sure I've... done this before...

[Combing someone's hair that is. It's another sort of soothing to tend rather than be tended.]

Is it okay...?