The nose knows, maybe.

Naked arms, his secrets still like songs I never learned Remi's willingness to help, to offer the best of himself to others as often as he can, to keep nothing for himself, meets Amalia's gratitude like a spring shower. The darkness of Remi's life as of late is only mitigated by small moments like this, acts of service into which he can collapse, and remember and feel who and what he used to be: a man unbroken by the world. A man who still had hope. Contentedly Remi lets himself be guided downwards, his bones feeling like lead encased in muscle that is suddenly too weary to hold him up. But there is a bright, if not clumsy, smile on his face as he nods. "Yes, just a little tired." He admits happily. Like a weary animal he sighs into the feeling of her hands on his face. Though it doesn't help him see any better, it is relieving and calming to be cared for, even in this small way, and his smile widens and dimples his cheeks. "Mmm, I will happily take you up on that." The alchemist says with a grin, and then promptly lets himself plop over onto his back in weary joy.