[ To watch her work, is like watching music form. Poetic, perhaps a little melodramatic to think that way, but he's always had an eye for power. The way it presents itself, the way it is utilized. The unique patterns, even. He has nothing to compare her ability to soothe to - not even the Corporalki healers could console someone in pain or frightened as well as that, and their role was to put someone back together. Body first, followed by mind and soul, if it remained.

-- he very nearly disrupts her, as she pulls his hands into her lap. Very nearly pulls them back, as she dabs at exposed skin and ruined bandages and tends to him the way he had meant to tend to her. It's been a long time, since someone has shared skin-to-skin contact with him. The young woman he had left behind was the only one he'd thought to freely touch - and not so long ago, he had offered a bare, outstretched hand to Kylo Ren. But that was with the intent to share what he was.

He holds back, with her. The sensation of holding something needy and writhing at bay, hands wrapped tight around wire and leash, until it is subdued and settled. There's little other way, if she wishes to do her work - he enjoys his control, after all. And it'd be a bad idea, if he started... amplifying. ] Angel. Glad to finally meet you, [ that leaves very few others, now.

He adds: ] The Darkling. [ And explains: ] A title, is what I have. And I apologize. The - medical staff, already cleaned me up once. Now, you are.