He's holding back. He's giving her answers, but even she can tell they're not all the answers, and to a paranoid, insecure Gem, that's a danger. All these mixed signals . . . they heighten her anxiety that there's something here that's hidden just beneath the surface -- that his kindness is just a front for something darker in purpose.

Something that will bite if not careful.

She's braced her arms on either side of her, tension in the muscles -- as though she expects to push away, put distance between them.

"Humans and Gems don't have Gems. And Gems don't just get lost."

(She says that with such certainty, and yet . . . in a manner of speaking, wasn't that her fate? Just . . . a force like the Crystal Gems, which took on the Homeworld, they don't just vanish. They don't just cease to exist.)