[ he stares at her offered hand like he's debating it, though there's never much of a question as to whether or not he'd go on to accept it, even if he sighs first, giving the faux impression like it's somehow a chore. but the way he easily takes her fingers again, like he's grown accustomed to fitting them together, says otherwise.

rising to his feet, he begins to take careful steps, bearing in mind their difference in height, keeping long legs in rhythm with hers. ]

Well, usually when I'm talked about it, it comes with a certain reputation attached. [ the not-good kind. ] I'm not typically the kind of guy people carry warm-hearted stories about.