Her hand on his knee sends a wiggling up his spine, prickling at his skin until it reaches the soft fringe of hair at the back of his neck. He wipes his face off with the back of one hand as she leans closer, petulant, but some kind of stubbornness seizes him, and he meets Rukia's large eyes.

Her face is ridiculous right now. "I'm not afraid of a little spit," he grouses, reaching out to grab both sides of her face in his hands to shove her away. He intends to. But when he gets to it, he ... doesn't.

He just holds her, sort of awkwardly. "Maybe that face you're making, though."