Frank watches the progression of emotion displayed on her face. She's usually not so easily read, but he can tell this has affected her deeply. If only he knew how she was hurting, maybe he could fix it. Just the prospect of either of them fixing anything is laughable though. He flinches but holds her eye contact, his mouth going dry as he tries to piece together a response. All he can manage is a stilted nod of agreement like he gives a fuck what she does to Zemo on his behalf or otherwise. The guy is pestilence embodied.

Letting her have her space seems like the right move at this point if only because he's already half undressed and doing anything else seems silly now. He picks up his shirts and watches her retreat down the hall, but he has to go the same way so he just awkwardly follows behind her with his clothing clenched in his meat fists.

"I think SHIELD's about the fight that battle, but knowing them there'll be plenty left of him for you." He sounds unconcerned about that, but there's a note of hesitation in his voice reserved just for Elektra's wellbeing. He swallows as he ducks into the bathroom, but consciously leaves the door open so she can make her own choice. He takes off everything on his lower half without ceremony and drops everything in a heap before disappearing into the shower that he turns as hot as it'll go.