She captured Tony again by surprising him with her serious answer, or at least she didn't say anything that suggested she was giving him the playful shrug Tony expected. He had to watch her then, studying her as she spoke, wondering how he hadn't noticed what she looked like when she was being honest. She was an expert at hiding it. She reminded him of someone like that. In fact, he was starting to wonder how much her father would hate him.
He waited until she was finished, and let her speech hang in the air for a beat before breathing it in with a deep breath and breaking it with a sigh. When he finally moved, it was to push the cup and her compact onto the table, then turn back to run his hand up her arm from hers to her elbow, and back down to meet the other, warmed from the coffee, at her wrist. The whole gesture was with distracted lightness, and Tony's stare was unfocused. He didn't see how anyone could ever forgive themselves. He dedicated much of his life to stopping the kind of people that could cause that kind of pain without suffering.
Blinking back into focus, Tony caught Raven's eye with a pout and an apologetic shrug, his admittance that he didn't really get it. He would try when he couldn't sleep, though.