[ A part of her tenses, waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop. She can't even bring herself to look at him for fear of seeing something unpleasant bloom on his features that would speak louder than words. Instead comfort comes in the form of him drawing her close. The tension in her body relaxes some.

Protests are already on the tip of her tongue. That it's stupid for her to feel this way. That it's awful how she was practically ready to bare her teeth towards someone that hadn't done anything wrong except probably been charmed by Claude. That she doesn't have an ounce of strategy in her; if anything she might possess the propensity to be cunning in the way that's bratty or self-serving but never anything that should be praised. And it's certainly not something that should be liked either. As she finally turns her gaze back towards him all of those self doubts are quickly swallowed, folded away for her to contemplate another day.

For now she tucks herself into him, drawing her arms close around his waist so she can rest her head against his chest to listen to the steady beat of his heart beneath the ridiculous amount of layers he wears. ]

I know you would, and I know you don't. [ And both of those things are something she has to remind herself of. ] I know how I can get. But I don't want to act that way anymore. I don't want to doubt you or make up ridiculous stories in my head about what you are or aren't doing because -

[ She stops herself short, a string of three words and eight letters that she'd nursed for so long now on the tip of her tongue. Except they feel right accompanying her admission of jealousy. It doesn't feel right when she doesn't feel worthy enough of his affections and attention when there are clearly others in Fodlan, Almyra and here that are more deserving. ]

You mean so much to me. [ Her gaze goes back up towards him. ] We mean so much to me.