@ncxile: brows furrowed in concentration as his hand reached out, it was tentative at first, movements slow to give time of reaction if needed. a gentleness not often seen in the scoundrel as fingers fingers wrapped around the other's hand, gaze only flicking to him then. ( have main verse dumbass ben )
Armitage's first instinct is to flinch— fingers curling as his hand jerked away at the mere notion of being touched. It was never a good thing— perhaps not nearly as bad here (yet, he reminded himself— for he was not convinced they meant him no harm if he continued to be stubbornly useless to them) but it still was enough to sting.
In part because the only reason anyone here got away with touching him was their stubborn insistence on dressing wounds that had long since healed by now.
But the hand only jerks so far away— an uncertainty shining in seafoam hues as they narrowed towards the man. While as of yet, Ben had made no move to bring him harm that didn't mean the situation hasn't changed.
There was an odd, almost hesitancy to the others movements that brought Armitage pause. Had him freeze instead of pulling completely away and... well, perhaps it was curiosity over what exactly the scoundrel was after that allowed for him to close his hand around Armitage's.
Fingers twitch and his breath catches in his throat, eyes cutting to look into Ben's with a look one might see on an uncertain, cornered animal.
"... why." That was all he could find— all his mind could supply to him in the moment of confusion.
