Lydia nearly fell - saved only by her somehow not succumbing to her usual clumsiness, and - and James’ hand on her hip. She glanced back at the man who fled the scene pretty immediately, and then back to James, whose face was only a few inches from hers. “I - yes,” she nodded, taking a step back, trying not to blush like - like James was. She didn’t know what to make of that, she only knew there was a pleasant little tingly sensation spreading where his hand had been. God, she needed to relax - she barely knew him, why was she crushing so much already? “I’m fine. Thank you. For catching me.” She offered him a grateful smile, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear and readjust her fedora. “Drunk people…” she said, shaking her head with a nervous laugh. “Let’s get out of here before another one tries to kill us?”
Somewhat reluctantly, but mindful of her personal space, James let go of her hip. He was filled with the urge to wrap his arms around her and hold her close - but he barely knew her, and that wasn’t appropriate to do, so instead he just flashed a nervous smile and nodded. “You’re welcome. Anytime.” He blinked, charmed by the cute way she reset her fedora, by the curl of her blue hair under it. His smiled softened, more warm than nervous as he got lost in her, but he cleared his head. “Oh - yeah. Yeah. Probably a good idea. Come on.” Gently, he began leading her towards the exit. He was grateful when they emerged into the night air. “Gosh, that’s better...”