She looks up at Jessica sideways, still and expectant. Her emotions are difficult things, others spent their whole life learning them, she was like a child, experiencing them in flavor and fury for the first time. Less than a year now, it's still so difficult, anger is still so potent. But now that it's cooled to sadness--(loneliness, she never knew how easy it was to be lonely)--she wants the touch.

"I can," she agrees, a bit contrite, knows her snarling is what has that girl's hand stopped like that. She reaches up with her cold hand to pull Jessica's the rest of the way to her gently.