[ as soon as his hand touches her shoulder, she lays her own atop it, weakly prying him away only so she can clasp the hand in both of hers. this is the priority. there are no consequences that matter right now: if she has to cling to him, or cry with all her heart, or plead on hands and knees, then she will, until she's well clear of danger. when Dimitri later abandons her for behaving like a needy child, it will still have been a worthwhile use of her lifeline. ]

S... Sorry. [ she hiccups, genuine and involuntary, a useless fear response she's never been able to overcome. ] Just, I'm really scared... If I'm alone, I don't think I'll make it.

[ the steadiness of Dimitri's words and the sincerity with which he explains himself does seem to have calmed Rudbeckia some—that sharp edge of desperation is blunted, her gaze still fearful but no longer looking at him as though he's condemned her to death. ]

And if we get caught... I'm not going to betray you. [ her grip on his hand squeezes tight. ] It's okay if they punish me. I'll be fine.

[ this is not the dismissiveness of bravado, or even a false reassurance said to placate; it is the plain delivery of a factual statement. ]