Actually, it's one of the best things he could have done. Toph startles as his fingers close around her dangling hand, not expecting the touch.

His palm is cool, faintly callused from years of training with dao swords, roughened a bit from time chasing the Avatar and the years that followed it. The tendons are honed, finely tuned; she can feel them shift as his hand tightens, cradling hers.

And it stays.

The touch sends a flicker of warmth through her. Her fingers tighten back. Hold on.