[Truly it's good to see him. The helmet is off now and he can finally see his face again and it takes everything in him to not cross the space between them to pull Ryder against him, to hold his face and kiss him breathless. The most he manages is a step closer, hand smoothing against the table before curling into a fist.

It's not like that anymore. It's a little easier to focus on the subject of being shot, a little huff of a laugh punching out of him as he reaches up to rub at his right shoulder.]

It was a clean shot. Left a hell of a scar though. Both sides.

[The smile is sad that tugs at his lips and his hand drops.]

If you meant to leave an impression, Ryder, you certainly succeeded.