Relief breaks across his features all at once, his head dropping back a moment before regret dips his chin again almost sheepishly. That's probably answer enough. Yeah, for a moment he was afraid she could. He didn't ask her that to hurt her, and his brows twist to see that he has - but he's not sorry enough to take it back, either. He takes a step out of the doorway, though, toward the wall.

"I think people are capable of shit I wouldn't believe." People he trusted, people he looked up to half his life did things he couldn't have imagined, and how can he trust his own instincts after that?

"And I'm not exactly impartial, when it comes to you," he adds, with a certain quieter fragility. He cares. Enough it clouds his judgement. "So yeah, I gotta ask the question, alright, but I trust you at your word."