He tips his head to the side and gives her an impatient look, sliding his fingers over her forearm and down to her wrist in order to rub his thumb against the bone there. "You're wearing my bracelet," he murmurs softly, curling into her touch as his gaze slides to her very bare hands.

"You look very lovely," he praises, because he thinks he should start with all the honest truths she's owed.