She lifts her hands to take the visor the rest of the way off, setting it carefully to the side before she lifts her head to meet his eyes. There's something cagey to them, something almost afraid, but she shifts so that she's closer to him, knees almost touching his, and covers his hand with hers so that it will stay pressed to her cheek.

"I wouldn't get sick of you," she promises him, earnest enough to be easy to believe. She's being open with him, letting him see that she really does mean it. "I don't think that's possible."