He wanted to remind her that 'happiness' was an emotion; one that he had practically no personal experience with and understood even less. He had felt it, through her, on some occasions, but that was hardly sufficient research.
But he didn't; she seemed not to like it when he reminded her of such things, and this was not the time to aggravate her further.
Instead he turned to face her, unclasping his hands from behind his back and slipping his arms around her waist. "There is no need for you to ask permission for such things; I trust your judgement." She always knew when to leave him to his personal space, after all.