The moment he felt her hand against his, his fingers closed over it. It was was a reflex, not a conscious thought — it would have been difficult not to grab on to something unexpected in his path, since he was still operating without one of his senses. All the same, it brought a flush of color to his cheeks. He let go quickly and focused instead on locating the bed, since she'd said it was close at hand, and sat down.

"That's — that's good news," he said, trying to ignore the awkwardness he felt both at the situation in general and at having just grabbed hold of her hand. It really was more her fault than his, since she had the advantage of sight and could have moved it clear of him, but he felt embarrassed by it all the same. Suppose she'd only stopped his hand because he'd been close to touching something else? He might have been at just the right height to brush against her chest. How mortifying for this poor woman.

"How does it taste?" he asked, attempting a joke, though it felt a little thin.