[He holds his breath for a moment, just looking at him, then slides his thumb a little more purposefully, apologetically, along the line of his cheek, his touch just barely there, as if afraid of hurting him.]
... I'm glad you are. [That you're "here." That you're here in general, universally. That you exist. That he got to meet you. That you've always been there, when he needed you. That you always find him.]