Edward looked down at her grasp of his wrist and then to her face, expression turned quietly rueful. It wasn't as though she forced him, either into her shuttle or to run. He slipped his wrist from her grasp, but slid the arm awkwardly (to him; even as he knew it would look smooth and graceful from the outside) around her and helped her toward to the shuttle doors.

"I am unaccustomed to people," he sighed, tired of it being the constant noise he made. "To people who are not my family members in close quarters. This is very different. You see things differently."

She was very different, yet still breakable.