[His back is already turned, and he barely catches the words above the sounds of his own footsteps. It makes him pause, one hand resting on the frame of the front door, and he considers responding, but he doesn't want to end the conversation as clumsily as he had the few times they'd spoken before. This went... okay. Well, even. He doesn't want to spoil that.
So instead he lifts a hand to offer up a backwards wave, slipping through the door and disappearing into the night.
[Action, October 4/5]
So instead he lifts a hand to offer up a backwards wave, slipping through the door and disappearing into the night.
You're welcome.]