Though she made no indication that she noticed that startle, Rio did flip the knife against her wrist, then was gallantly bracing that arm behind her back as she finally came away from the doorframe for a chivalrous bow, one foot forward like she might even take a knee. The other hand, the one that had been spread open against the point of the blade, was held out before her in a loose fist, palm up in offering. There, she waited, eyes on girly through her lashes, just long enough for her to acquiesce and come closer again, close enough to accept. Then Rio opened her hand, fingers springing out to reveal a full, pink chrysanthemum, petals open and unbruised.