[At least that instinct is what he was expecting to be faced with, from the very beginning -- so it only makes him slow his steps, holding out his hand, palm-up in a calming, placating manner, to say I wasn't going to touch you, don't worry, without actually saying it out loud.
If anything, her words, the admission (because he can hear it, what she doesn't say), it makes him smile wider, brighter.]
I like it. It suits you. [Beautiful, cold, strong and fragile at the same time -- though he knows better than to say as much. What he does want to say, the words he's holding back... I knew you could do it, but no, he doesn't have the right to say that, either.]