Caradoc felt awful for being distracted from Petunia's obvious turmoil when she curled against him. The press of her arm around his waist and her face to his neck had him drawing in a sharp breath before he caught himself. Being so close to her made catching the scent of her shampoo inevitable and Caradoc found himself getting wrapped up in each and every little detail about her. "Don't be- don't be sorry." he murmured in reply, "And you look beautiful, you always look beautiful." It was true and though he made small comments about it, he had never said it out right. He worried too much that she would figure out how he really felt about her and stop hanging around him so much.
Resting his cheek on top of her head, his hand continued to rub small circles into her back, the other threading through her hair. "I mean it, Tunes." Though whether he was referring to her being sorry or her being beautiful was indistinguishable.