Gleb exhales, slowly and just a little unsteadily, at the way she touches him, his chin ducking so he can rest his forehead against hers. She's as beautiful as she's ever been, and this still feels a little surreal, like if he moves away, something might break and the two of them might be left in the position he'd thought they were in. It was strange enough the first time, when she showed up at his door after some bizarre relived night from their past, but in a way, it made sense, too. He hadn't ever expected that she would return his feelings, but there'd been no seemingly concrete proof that she didn't, only a few moments into which he tried not to read something more. Now they've been apart for weeks, and this last one in particular has been agonizing, filled with things he was sure were true that she's now negated. No matter how much he believes her, trusts her, it's hard to shake that. For her, though, to have even a chance of being with her again, it's worth it to try. He would be a fool not to, and genuinely so this time, not just assuming as much based on a few misinterpreted statements.

"Neither did I," he says quietly, the words coming out on what's nearly a laugh of his own, just a bit shy of one. "I think this is the last thing I would have expected." He doesn't know precisely what he thought would have happened instead; he hadn't gotten as far as considering that, too intent on staying away from her to try to give some wounds a chance to heal. He's beyond grateful now for her persistence, enough to put on hold any lingering questions he might have. With the tangled, messy state everything was left in when he last checked, he doesn't want to ruin this peace by asking what this means for her feelings for Dmitry.

He kisses her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. "I'm glad you came."