Once they're away from the feel of the heat and the smell she calms somewhat, deep breaths as though her body is trying to remind itself how to pass oxygen to the brain again. The adrenaline fades as she looks at him, pupils that had been blown wide dilating to something that's more normal and the intense emotion of the moment fading. She doesn't pull away from his touch - in fact, if anything she leans into it, hands coming up to rest on his wrists as though she wants to keep that contact there, but not wanting to use actual words to say it.

When the panic is gone completely, however, comes the frustration - mostly with herself - as well as the embarrassment. She hasn't lost it like that in a long time, not since she was a kid, and the fact that he keeps managing to find her in these situations grinds at that part of her that insists on taking care of herself. She doesn't like to be vulnerable, or weak, yet she keeps finding herself there with him.

She also doesn't know what to do with the large part of her that is okay with that, that trusts him not to abuse this piece of her she's giving away. That, in and of itself, is new and scary, and she isn't sure how to handle it, but every instinct is telling her to just fall into it, head first.

"I'm sorry," she manages to get out eventually, her eyes falling to the ground. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ... " Lose it like that.