[Spending all his teenhood and much of adulthood in a cramped apartment with paper-thin walls and a mom who didn't always take closed doors too seriously taught him to be quick and efficient and quiet. In five minutes, he has come into a tissue and cleaned up, though he lingers in the bathroom a while to wind down and cool off, leaning over the sink while re-arranging his sleek leather eye patch and pleased to note that his eyeliner remains unsmudged.

He hobbles back in smelling of hand soap, dropping into the cushions beside Ed with a contented sigh. He looks around a moment, taking in his inheritance.]

You know, I rather liked sharing the bed with you. [Pausing thoughtfully.] I found it... peaceful. Which I really can't say of many things these days. [Catching Ed's eyes, he invites him to weigh in.]