[When Hank jerks away it throws up hundreds of alarm bells in Cayde’s systems, and he hastily retracts his hand and tries to put some distance between the both of them. Not out of any concern for his own comfort, but because that wide-eyed look means something is very, very wrong and he wants to give Hank his space. He hasn’t seen that expression before outside of combat zones, and given that they’d been (hopefully) enjoying a bit of respite it all comes as a tremendous shock.]

Easy, easy-

[He raises his hands in a non-threatening manner, as if the gesture will help steady the man before him. I doesn’t really help, Hank’s trying for coherency now and falling short, but it helps Cayde keep that small bit of distance as he racks his brain for what to do.]

Me. Yep, me, it’s definitely me.

[There’s a hand reaching for him now, and Cayde forces himself to stay rooted to the spot. Centuries of training should dictate that he keep up this delicate dance, not let any potential threat into arm’s reach- but this isn’t a threat. It’s so unbelievably messed up that that’s the first place his subconscious goes, especially on the heels of the fact that Hank, patient, stubborn Hank, had risked life and limb to try to talk him down back at the Crypt.

Okay. He’s a problem solver, he can figure this out. First thing first, he slowly lowers his hands and adopts a much more casual stance, the slight furrow of his browplates the only thing that betrays his concern. Think about what you were thinkin’? What does that even mean? He hadn’t been thinking about anything beyond how he’d wanted Hank to see, really see, how amazing everything really was.]

Hey, you do what you gotta do, okay? Everything is cool here, we’re both cool.

[There’s still a note of worry, but he does force himself to relax the best he can, wills himself to try and dredge up his previous excitement.]