[He wishes he could see her. He has to rely upon the eyes of others, though, and it grates. But the touches communicate just as eloquently, small things upon which he focuses. He leans his face into her hands, eyes shutting as if in some brief pain from that kiss. No, he refuses to shed tears. Not now.

Instead he smiles, as he always does when something hurts. At least this is the sort of pain that heals.] Don't be silly, mother. Everyone knows Loki is a coward. But... [He draws an unsteady breath, fumbling to pluck at her sleeve with one hand.] I am glad you might think such silly things anyway.