If she went out, I never know when she'll be back.

[ He makes a fair point. Even if Psyche can well imagine Waltaquin giving her the stare of catlike indifference and saying something like "pay me no mind"...

She gives a soft laugh, brushing her hand against his palm before she starts carefully trying to work her fingers into the fabric. She might need a little help, but also she just likes his hands. ]

I should be asking you. Aren't you the one who's going to be embarrassed if someone comes by?