[That whole tirade was hopelessly embarrassing and he is already trying to pretend it didn't happen, so Sycamore will be keeping his head down as Lysandre approaches, even as he feels him sitting on the couch and his hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

After his friend falls silent, however, he'll reach out and place his hand on top. The leather of his gloves feels...pleasing, and it suddenly hits him that this is the first time they've really made contact with one another since Lysandre arrived. His hand will promptly be squeezed, and Sycamore lifts his head, a small, tired smile on his face.

But he's smiling, at least.]

I'd still rather talk about Sanguis. Or, you know, anything other than what I just said.

[A soft laugh follows that comment (oh, he cracks himself up), but he's still not releasing that hand any time soon.]

But I'm...glad to hear you say that, even if I'm surprised you don't think I'm an idiot. I just can't believe we're owed another visit to the goats so soon.

[Really, it's been...what, a day? Maybe two? Ugh.]