The easy, quiet confidence he felt for her was ultimately what pulled Evey back onto her feet again. By degrees, she released him - first, easing her arms from around him, then unclenching her fingers from his shirt, then finally letting go completely - and stepping back just a bit, just enough to be respectable again.
"Thank you," she said quietly, knowing that he didn't have to come, but she was better because he had. With a long, cleansing breath in and out of her lungs, she was again herself. She stared at the ground, thinking critically about what had just happened.
"Could you go to him?" she finally asked. "It cannot be me, and it cannot be her - not yet. But if you're able, I think it would be a good thing for him to have someone close at hand. He's not.... He's not well. Right now, he's still..." Drunk. Chasing the high. She really hadn't known if he was going to be able to control himself enough to let her do what she needed to do with the blood bags. It was a near thing, as she saw it.