He doesn't pull away at first but touches their foreheads together while sharing breaths, albeit somewhat heavily. With a demure grin, James gives enough room to read Diana's face, brushing a thumb over tinted cheeks and feeling floaty. Happily accomplished for having caused such a reaction.

"This helped," James murmurs almost quietly enough to be a whisper, like he's afraid to break the spell of cozy affection. "Did you want to head back? I can walk you to your room..." Though he may want more, he isn't narcissistic enough to expect anything.