He follows patiently enough, nibbling on his snack as they go. He even idly laces his fingers between hers, swinging their hands together gently. Loki may be a damaged, untrustworthy individual, but he's apparently not so far gone he can't accept and savor a moment of peace.

"...I ought to warn you," he says at length, as they get close to her door. "I am a shapeshifter. You may come home and find me looking unlike myself at times."

Not that he shifts gratuitously, but he's decided that here, in the Nexus, the more forms he's comfortable in the better. Disguise is advantageous. He may as well practice.