She's done this trick before, with every guy she's ever gotten close enough to do it with. She likes to see them jump, shocked (literally) into a whole new awareness of her ability. They've grimaced through it, like Adam. They've recoiled in disgust, like Peter.
He laughs. Five minutes ago she wanted to hurt him enough to make him kill her, and now she's laughing with him. What a crazy screwed up world. She wonders what sparks would feel like between their teeth.
She doesn't let herself try it. He did just kill her father, after all—or she did, by winding him up and leaving him to run on his own. Your father's murder isn't something you just get over, even if he never really cared all that much about you and even if the man who killed him apologized. Which he didn't anyway.
He barely reacts when she gets close to him, grabs his arm in what might have looked like flirtation to most outsiders. He doesn't say anything, and he doesn't follow up on the moment, but she feels his arm tense slightly and she thinks he knows, too. What it is to want to hold onto things you never thought you'd find.
It will be nice, having someone to play with.