It is a strange feeling to have his gift accepted. Each time he offers of himself, Themis cannot help but hold his breath in some fashion, hoping perhaps slightly irrationally that he will not be rejected. It is a strange thing, to put oneself in the hands of another, to be vulnerable for them, and hope they do not harm you. Knowing that they will not yet still hoping regardless.

It happens each time. Still, the tension drains from his spine.

Eyes drying further, his tilts his head slightly. His lips twist up into a smile, "And if not such for those things, why would that be, hmm?"

They both rather need the distraction, and he knows Popp will oblige.