He laughs, and even ducks his head a little, caught out in the lie. "Can't pull one over on you, I can see that," he murmurs, and watches her as she comes closer. This is as close as they've ever been, even a bit closer than the first night they'd arrived, before Alice had come back, and while her scent still surrounds him and the thirst is still there, he's somewhat separated from it. Whether it's familiarity or just a streak of stubborn willpower he hadn't needed until now, he's still at ease.

Her slow isn't a timid slow, it's a careful slow, it's careful because of him, his limits, he thinks as her fingers tease a button open and slide hotly against his skin. There's a hesitation to her again, but it's the hesitation of exploration, because they're walking those limits again, finding the borders, and it's them together now.

When her hand falls away, he catches it, quicker than maybe he ought to move, but cradling it carefully as he lifts it and sets her hand against his cheek again. "I think we're winning this particular battle," he whispers as he turns his head just enough to brush his lips against her palm. There's an urge to bite that surges up, but he fights it back down, it doesn't take much effort at all, he doesn't even need to pause. "Winning is always more exciting than peace."