[ That touch has him looking at his right hand; useless, likely in that situation even if it wasn't wrapped in layers of plaster and mesh. He scowls, unable to even move his fingers enough to clench them into a fist — which is for the best, physically. ]
[ Sasha's apology is genuine, he knows, but even so...
His eyes seek hers, fixing them with an unwavering gaze. ] You're not gonna run off like that without me again, are you? Not that I bet we'll have a lot of rebellions on our hands, but you get the point.