[ It's hard not to watch Link closely, as rough as the appearance of his clothing is; the evidence that he's fine - or fine enough - might be right there before her, but she hasn't yet determined the how of it, and it leaves her unsettled. There are plenty of reasonable explanations, though, to be sure; more importantly, the blonde catches sight of his turned-away eyes and reminds herself not to stare too openly, lest she cause him some further discomfort.
Still, she can't help a glance back upon realizing he's lagged behind to wipe his feet. The step she'd been about to take falters, her concerned eyes lifting from his shoes to his face, as if ready to protest, but-- no, there's no need to rush him, if that's what he wishes to do. It's a thoughtful gesture on his part, and though the line of her mouth sets a bit more firmly to hold in the, 'You don't have to do that,' she does quietly appreciate it.
Patient, the young lady stands to one side until Link's chosen a place to sit. Only then does she move forward to the seat next to his, hands busying themselves with a last-minute sorting of the arrayed items, perhaps more for the sake of her nerves than anything. Her movements still for a beat at his words of gratitude, which draw her attention and the turn of her head. There's a natural answer to this, the, 'We've all got to look out for each other around here.' But since they're trying to be friends, now - and given that she can sense his hesitance about all of this, she swallows the pat response in favor of a wan smile back. ]
It's the least I can do. Besides... you're helping me, too, remember?
[ Practice does make perfect, as they say, and to look at him, it seems there'll be plenty of that to gain from this. Accoutrement finally settled, Naminé pauses at last to look down at his bloodied clothes. The mess makes it difficult to know where to start, and despite herself, her brow pinches as her focus makes the arc from one of his arms to the other.
Perhaps it's best for him to direct where she begins. He ought to know what hurts most, right...? ]
Well-- [ For a second, she fumbles for the proper phrasing. ] ... May I see what's wrong?
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Still, she can't help a glance back upon realizing he's lagged behind to wipe his feet. The step she'd been about to take falters, her concerned eyes lifting from his shoes to his face, as if ready to protest, but-- no, there's no need to rush him, if that's what he wishes to do. It's a thoughtful gesture on his part, and though the line of her mouth sets a bit more firmly to hold in the, 'You don't have to do that,' she does quietly appreciate it.
Patient, the young lady stands to one side until Link's chosen a place to sit. Only then does she move forward to the seat next to his, hands busying themselves with a last-minute sorting of the arrayed items, perhaps more for the sake of her nerves than anything. Her movements still for a beat at his words of gratitude, which draw her attention and the turn of her head. There's a natural answer to this, the, 'We've all got to look out for each other around here.' But since they're trying to be friends, now - and given that she can sense his hesitance about all of this, she swallows the pat response in favor of a wan smile back. ]
It's the least I can do. Besides... you're helping me, too, remember?
[ Practice does make perfect, as they say, and to look at him, it seems there'll be plenty of that to gain from this. Accoutrement finally settled, Naminé pauses at last to look down at his bloodied clothes. The mess makes it difficult to know where to start, and despite herself, her brow pinches as her focus makes the arc from one of his arms to the other.
Perhaps it's best for him to direct where she begins. He ought to know what hurts most, right...? ]
Well-- [ For a second, she fumbles for the proper phrasing. ] ... May I see what's wrong?