There in this sunshine, Dimitri found himself glancing down at her hand, and he was overcome with the urge to reach out and hold it in his, to take her for a walk down the beach. It was a strange feeling, one that would have not only been impossible back home, but he should have discarded. She wasn't his. He had no right to think about that kind of thing.
He hummed lightly in understanding. Dimitri didn't think out loud, and that was part of their communication issue. All of his pondering and agonizing he did alone, within his own head, allowing no one else to suffer what he felt on a consistent basis.
He was convinced it was better that way, especially for her.
Dimitri followed after her, half a step behind (he had to shorten his footfalls to do so), and just to her right side. He'd be partially in her blind spot, but that kept them from having one.
Habit.
Her words caught his attention though, and almost made him pause. "Terasov?" Ruh roh. "What do you know about Terasov?" There was only one connection that Dimitri could make in his mind between Rose and the prison and it was...not one he wanted to make.