Miles can't help but watch every small movement of hers, especially when she appears to turn away slightly before letting him place his fingers along her face. This ... is getting too serious, isn't it? He ought to stop, maybe, and not put her into this position in the first place.

But even that slight contact sends electricity down his spine as well. Especially when she turns, lips brushing up against his fingertips, nips just slightly at the tip of one - oh, god, he wants. He wants so badly that he aches, that he'd promise anything. Do anything. Anything that she might possibly ask of him. Which is so desperately dangerous that even he hesitates, but - she has started in him a fire that refuses to die back down once lit.

"No," he says, swallowing thickly. Looking up at her with those fierce gray eyes of his, softened by fondness. Affection. Love, perhaps? Yes, it's love, if only the sort that burns bright at the beginning of an adventure like this. "I am not playing. Not at all." A pause; a bit of a crooked smile. "God, I think I've been in love with you since you gutted that soldier who was about to kill me."