[ Hilda jumps and he braces himself in determination to not have a repeat of crashing down to the warehouse floor. Especially not when the ground is now a good amount farther below and likely no more forgiving than the floor had been, but she lands in his arms. Safely, he thinks, then lets go of that word almost instantly, nearly in the same moment that he makes sure she's steady from the short drop before he lets go of her.

It's not enough to prevent the small current when she opens her eyes, some kind of magnetism he wills himself to forget when it has no place here. Something else he'll have to let go of as he takes a half step back and murmurs an of course in response before looking out to the alleyway they've ended up in. ]

Well, it's not the most exciting escape, but at least we did it ourselves.

[ Or some other meager consolation he's half-heartedly pretending he means while dropping down to the next crate in the stack to get ever closer to leaving like it'll help wash away any of this from his mind. It won't; it'll be there waiting to fester painfully with everything else. It's the kind of thing he promises himself while knowing full well all of it will circle around his thoughts tonight, tomorrow, for any number of days yet to come when he's reminded of all of it while looking at the fragments of her still all around his room.

He can't, he thinks, bring himself to remove them just yet even if Hilda's already taken that step for herself. ]

On the plus side, now you know a way out if that warehouse door gets any more ideas.