She angles her head back, cheek still pressed to his shoulder, to flick her bright, adoring eyes at him. For all of the things he's been through (although perhaps not revealed at the best of times, she carries the shadows of his past with her - remembering), there remains a softness underneath -

Or perhaps it's because of what he's been through that the delicacy is there -

Either way, cause or effect, what matters is its existence. And how fortunate, how grateful she is because of it.

She nods a little, eyes briefly wandering his face, fingers giving his thigh a gentle squeeze.

"It's still good to hear," she responds quietly. "I don't imagine it needs to be said, but I will - that that goes for you, too." Echoing the trust, echoing both ways.