He stumbles toward her. Instinctively she grips his arms more securely with both hand and hair, straightens up, and takes another half step forward. It stops him from falling, but she's now even closer. She... she doesn't mind. She should, but she doesn't.

"Do..." She's now eye to eye with him, instead of looking up. Her throat feels scratchy even though it shouldn't. She tries again. "Do I have a what?" Now that he's not in danger of falling (if he ever actually was), she should back up. She's not sure she wants to.