When Dias lifted his head again, it was to find Celes' face inches from his owns - a realization that served to quite effectively wipe out all thoughts of old wounds in order to replace them with fresh bafflement and uncertainty. He'd observed for some time now that he and Celes were alike in many ways, but in just as many ways she was entirely inscrutable to him; now was one of the latter instances. Part of him was still waiting on that punch; there was a rock-hard core of cynicism that even wondered if this wasn't simply some sort of ruse to throw him off-guard for it. And instead she was leaning in too close for anything except - well, something he'd assumed she'd punch any man for trying.

Knowing he was already due a punch as it was, Dias opted to give her a questioning look and see what, exactly, she intended. His social skills were badly stunted as it was; he wasn't going to risk misreading this cue, if it was meant to be a cue at all.