[He'll take all that in, not moving from where he's standing even after Sycamore has let himself sink down onto the couch; after a long moment, however, he'll move to join him, sitting next to him for a moment before reaching out and laying a hand on his shoulder lightly, almost as though he's expecting to be shrugged off.]

...You can talk to me about this. About...Iris, or about what I've done, or about what you've been going through. I do want to hear about it. Because you're...my friend, and because you're important to me.

I still don't think less of you for this, incidentally. I'm not certain why you thought I would.