It takes Regulus everything he can to keep himself from jumping out of his skin when Mr. Eames extends that gesture of goodwill and camaraderie. Both because Regulus wasn't exactly accustomed to touch, even the friendly kind, especially from people he generally didn't know, but also because of the small pang of guilt over his pretenses.

He was just doing what he had to do to get by. And he wasn't used to genuine expressions of... well any kind of feeling besides hate and fear.

He pushed back against the ill-ease he was feeling so he pushed it aside and focused on the lie at hand.

"Y-yes," he stumbled a bit, trying to make it look like youthfulness.

"He lived with honor- like you. And, you know, everyone here."

And he just prayed that punch on his arm wouldn't turn into any grander physical gestures of belonging. Regulus wouldn't not know how to handle that.