Piotr does laugh, just a breath and almost silent. "Khoroshiy," he says, Good, and brushes his thumb softly over her cheekbone.

And then, "I was not -- I didn't want to push." He's searching for the right words, but there's still a soft, surprised smile on his face, in his eyes. "But I would have too."

"I am glad," and his gaze flicks down to her mouth and back up to those bright (white) eyes, and he's the one who leans in this time.