Intimacy. A closeness. A familiarity or friendship between two people. How can someone show something they didn't understand? To show Intimacy was frightening. It was pouring one's heart out; baring one's soul to another. Slaine once believed that to show intimacy meant to have sex. It was what a lot of people said; so he believed it. He'd craved intimacy because he thought he could never achieve any level of intimacy with Asseylum. There were four different women he had tried to connect with, but they all fell apart. All of them couldn't handle something about him: his position, his birth status, his lack of assertiveness, or his dedication to Asseylum.
But as he sat on the couch, looking down at a woman who would scream at him for risking his life; never mind that it was for her. He looked down at the woman whose tears welled in her eyes, but refused to fall. Those tears were for him. And sitting on this couch, watching old cartoons with her sleeping on his shoulder, showed him intimacy. True intimacy.
This wasn't love. This wasn't love because he didn't feel that way, not yet. But he felt loved. Inaho may not think that he knew, but he could see it. Everytime he looked at her. She can't hide her love for him. He was slowly becoming addicted to how much she cared for him, down to the food she bought and made. He didn't want to disappoint her; to have her love disappear.
Not only did Inaho save his life, but she also saved him. This. This was what he always craved. Someone to be so comfortable with him. Someone he could share all his fears with. This levering of intimacy was frightening, but he craved it all the same.