Wilhelm will find that Iris' ire is just as quick to dispel as it is to bubble forth. Easily mollified by — what, exactly? That Wilhlem doesn't pull away? Or the simple fact that he'd returned at all? It's hard to say, and possibly too depressing to really hink on for too long, and so it's all for the best that Iris doesn't hesitate to slip his hand into the crook of that elbow and continue following along obediently as he'd done this whole time.

Back into the blanket of Wilhelm's shadows, he probably shouldn't find it so comforting. But there's an easiness in the way he can just sort of let go and let Wilhelm do all the leading, in giving himself up to the trust that someone else will keep him safe. When compared to how he'd felt there, alone against that wall, exposed and uncertain, he finds he would much rather sink here into the darkness if it meant he could be assured he'd never have to be alone again.