[She sighs too, just as soon as his fingers go to her hair, but it's as much relieved as it is frustrated with herself. She tips her head back though - slowly, to make it clear she's not trying to get away from his touch - and gives him a little smile. She really isn't crying, just a little damp-eyes and pink-cheeked.]

I'm not upset. It's fine, it's - it's nice.

[A pause, a beat where she manages not to frown and just breathes carefully instead, a little more aware of how sudden that was, how erratic she must seem.]

Do you want me to move? [and her smile hooks at the corner there, a little cheeky, much more like her usual self.] 'cause I don't want to, so if that's what you need you're gonna hafta tell me.