Dangerous, maybe, but there's nothing beneath her hands aside from patient, steady compliance: his head turns when she moves it, where she moves it, so pliant that it hardly seems the same person she'd confronted before. Only the narrowed, reddened eye at his right side, swollen from prior agitation, meets her gaze from where his head is tilted so far ahead peripheral vision is all that remains.

"Yes." Because even if he doesn't fully understand it all just yet, he will, Ren imagines - at least once the ebbing strain from their conflict fades. She is not Snoke, she's something greater than the Supreme Leader could possibly have imagined. Would envy if he knew, most likely, huddled in the confines of his own, hollow cloister.

After a moment, with her eyes still tracing out the ugliness of his brand, he adds, almost too eagerly, "It's nothing; I hardly feel it."

Be impressed, space mom. Look how badass he is.