Zatanna is a sentimental sort of woman, but she hadn't noticed that he was less of a touchy-feely person than she was. Zatanna was the type to touch someone as she spoke to them, hand against a bicep or hip to hip. She gestured a lot, hands explaining how she felt just as much as her tone of voice.

Without a thought, she gives his arm a squeeze. She doesn't expect him to take charge in her space and though whatever world he comes from is surely very different from her own, that sort of thing could be risky. It was like a magical battlefield, beyond sky and earth. What he used could be science or a meta ability. It didn't matter, though. She didn't feel as if she was being violated. It wasn't an attack.

Zatanna takes a moment to take in the landscape he's so expertly crafted (she hadn't brought her into her dream, she's sure of that now). It isn't an exact likeness, but she gets the feeling he wants it that way. It's like a postcard, just the sort of place you want to visit. Perfect. "More than, yes," she pulls him along at a slow pace, "Any reason you chose Venice?" Or whatever it may have been called in his world.