There's a clear moment where he hesitates. It's a mix of many things - mainly his general dislike of touch, coupled with the fact that he's known this man less than an hour and the guilt of having threatened him in error in such a short span of time. Trust is a tricky thing, even if he had been the one in the wrong only a few minutes earlier.

But finally, he slowly lifts a hand to settle it lightly against Klaus' offered one, a line of white lyrium tracing from each fingertip down over the palm to his wrist to flare into the intricate patterns on his arms.

"...what are you doing?"