He wanted to kiss her. That was all his body wanted to do, but he couldn't let himself let go and risk the control he was so carefully holding onto. Stupid thoughts came to him, like the fact that he had clothes in her room and would have to finish reading "The History of British Wizardry in the Modern Age" without her there to fill in the gaps, and how cold and sad it would feel in her apartment, without her light, even though he wouldn't be there to notice it.
Instead he just stood there and said nothing until he chanced a look at her and her broken eyes. He had never done this before.
Uncertainly, he told her, "I don't really have anything else to say."