It's the way she reaches out, whether others are around or not. Sometimes it's by quietly taking his hand into her much smaller one and holding it up, looking down at it with the affection of one that knows this almost couldn't be a thing, that their lives have been in and out of peril so many times that this has become a wonder.

It's the way that "Hak" becomes the first word out of her lips sometimes when she's in danger, the way she reaches out by word and will. The way she leans on him sometimes for her strength, though Yona is trying to grow stronger and stronger on her own two feet regardless. And yet, there's a kind of leaning, a kind of reaching out that just happens as well.

It's the way that she looks around for him sometimes, just to spot him by her side, and even if she questions his quiet reaching out, it's something that brings just a touch more comfort to her or perhaps the better word would be reassurance, a kind of quiet strengthening.

And it's the way he reaches out too, the way his hand grasps the necklace around his neck and reminds him completely of her, the way he takes her hands in his, as beaten up as they are by fighting, as calloused as they get, the little bumps and cuts and marks that show that her life isn't one that is easy, but one that is hard.

The way he reaches out by returning once again to her side, the way he looks for her to make sure she's safe or even to cheer her on as he witnesses another show of her strength, another way that she's stood strong as a rock despite all the odds stacked up against her.

It's this quiet reaching back, the way that they always come back together, like two hands joining, fingers intertwining, a moment of comfort, reassurance, warmth, and connectivity, that both people do not want to ever part from.