.... He can't help but agree with him. This... he needed to either break things off or leave them be.

"....."

He watches him through his visor, noting the small details of his face smooth and familiar. The way he held himself. Relaxed. Confidant. So very different from the Felix he allowed to die. The two of them... they were nothing alike and exactly the same, and yet this Felix was familiar.

Wordlessly he moves his hands up and unseals his helmet removing it in front of him. His hair falls down, stray hairs framing his face while the majority is held up in a loose bun.

"You're misreading things." No, you're not. But he's never going to admit to "acting" weird.