Probably, it should pique her something's not right reflex that he's okay with so much contact when they've tended to be more sparing about it, according to her (somewhat trauma-fuzzied, admittedly) memories of before Teleios, which she'll have to remember to call "home" now. This feels... like it should feel, like a real home, and that's not how it should be at all. And then, in the midst of arguing with herself about how much less comfortable she should feel, he drops that.
Her first thought, oddly, is yet another wave of panic, which maybe he can ascertain given that she tenses up. Because no way he's not going to notice when he eats whatever she decides to cook that he feels a small but certainly evident surge of energy. She never figured out how to keep things entirely neutral, only how to enhance it. And, while she's busy getting frantic about that, it dawns on her the joke he just made. It certainly could be nothing, and she's quite sure that it's her own wishful thinking reading into it a callback to that night she beckoned him from his rabbit traps back to the farmhouse on the strange psychic bracelets Teleios used (she even misses those, how utterly crazy). It really could be just an innocent comment, albeit one that's coincidentally cutting damn close to the quick.
But... what if...?
"Those are best at three in the morning," she says, just enough humor in her clogged voice to pass it off as something that people just say. (She's being stupid, frankly, to let herself hope, knowing it couldn't ever be that simple. If, on the other hand, he hits another point that's far too close to home, she could duck her head just a little more -- she knows exactly how much, of course -- and someone who was looking for it would see a flash of black on the nape of her neck. But, of course, that's ridiculous, and really she should have let go already...)
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Her first thought, oddly, is yet another wave of panic, which maybe he can ascertain given that she tenses up. Because no way he's not going to notice when he eats whatever she decides to cook that he feels a small but certainly evident surge of energy. She never figured out how to keep things entirely neutral, only how to enhance it. And, while she's busy getting frantic about that, it dawns on her the joke he just made. It certainly could be nothing, and she's quite sure that it's her own wishful thinking reading into it a callback to that night she beckoned him from his rabbit traps back to the farmhouse on the strange psychic bracelets Teleios used (she even misses those, how utterly crazy). It really could be just an innocent comment, albeit one that's coincidentally cutting damn close to the quick.
But... what if...?
"Those are best at three in the morning," she says, just enough humor in her clogged voice to pass it off as something that people just say. (She's being stupid, frankly, to let herself hope, knowing it couldn't ever be that simple. If, on the other hand, he hits another point that's far too close to home, she could duck her head just a little more -- she knows exactly how much, of course -- and someone who was looking for it would see a flash of black on the nape of her neck. But, of course, that's ridiculous, and really she should have let go already...)