As she speaks Ellis' hand turns, covers Wysteria's over the tin before drawing it to him and holding it between his palms. Her hands are very warm. The jangling pressure of what he's invoked is still weighing down on him, but the give in her voice and the familiar comfort of the little kitchen acts as a cushion, buffers him from what he's drawn into the room with them.

It seems that may be all there is, just the clasp of his hands around hers. He's spoken at great length. What can possibly come after that?

"I've never told anyone that before now," comes softly, apology and gratitude mingled in his voice. There is some unspoken request in that, one he won't say aloud. After some further beat of quiet, "Thank you for tending to my hands."