[Jean freezes in spot when her hands fall onto his cheeks, suddenly he wishes that he shaved this morning. It's not so much her words but her vicinity that has him so captured, being touched affectionately like that has been on his mind constantly. Sure, the least likely person he thought it would be is Riza Hawkeye.. but he'll take it where he can get it at this particular time. He feels broken, used, un-needed, hollowed out, dead inside- he could be in a room full of a thousand people and still feel alone.

But that touch. Not so much who it's from, but the affection behind it is true enough for him.

Before her hands fall too far away, his catlike reflexes capture one of her wrists. His grip is strong but nothing close to what the full extent of Jean Havoc's brutish ability to hold something could be. It's soft enough a grasp to let her know he's not intending harm and brings her tinier hand back slowly up toward his cheek. His eyes close at its approach and his head bows to meet her arm half way so she's not over-extending it. Ever so gently the hand previously holding her wrist slips upward and he cups the back of her hand with his large one, nestling his cheek into her soft hand.]