It’s a testament to how comfortable they’ve become around each other in the most intimate of ways that her being naked doesn’t derail him entirely. Not that she isn’t still beautiful even now, covered in blood. But it’s a beauty he knows well in every sense, and he can compartmentalize while his anger is still fresh. When he looks at her, it’s only to check for any wounds. His relief at finding none quickly shifts into indignation though. His narrowed eyes quickly dart up to find her face.

“The latter,” he says, voice clipped. His exhale is low and rough. Almost a growl, more frustrated than angry now. “You think I’m still judging you for killin’? You think my hands have ever been clean?” He drags a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes. It’s too late for this, but it’s not like it can wait.

“I’m not a good man. I’ve done plenty of ugly things, and I’m likely to do more. I do what I can to make up for that, but I’m a far cry from innocent. You killed them because they hurt Chloe, right?” He looks at her again, silently urging her to turn towards him. “You’re takin’ care of your own, same as you’ve always done. And I should've been there doing the same for you.”