Diana waits, patient, her breath caught in her chest. She thinks, maybe, she should hesitate, too. It was not so long ago (to her, anyway) that the last person she had been with had died. Her heart still aches for Steve Trevor's death, but even if the time since then feels short to her, so much has happened. She doesn't think that wound on her heart will ever disappear, but she does think it has begun to scar. Not quite whole, but healing. And after what she had seen at the execution, she aches for some kind of connection, something to let her know that she is not the only one who suffered a sort of hurt from it. To find a way to soothe that hurt.

Altaïr stands and kisses her, and she realizes how much she has craved a touch outside the battlefield or a simple, friendly gesture. So the kiss is welcome, and she feels starved for it. Diana meets his kiss, hand moving from his face to the back of his head without a second thought. She shifts forward, pressing into him, not wanting to leave any room to question whether or not she is ready to reciprocate his intent.