There was a brief hesitation, and then Rabastan moved toward her, stopping a few inches from her. With a wary, halting sort of reach, he moved his hand in an attempt to touch that same shoulder.

He wasn't sure if she'd allow it, or if it would ruin anything, but he somehow just felt utterly compelled to do it. Just a small, light touch. Fingertips on skin. A harmless part of her, he'd hoped.