He'd felt the desperate, scrabbling urge to make Louis understand all that happened on the stage, and over the week, when it was clear Louis would not hear of it, or anything, it had all winnowed down to the simple instinct to ensure that his apology didn't get burned away in the aftermath. To do that one thing, the one other thing he came here to do, before whatever happens next. How little the rest of it mattered, Claudia's ashes on the stage floor.

But now a return of it, an anxious clench beneath his ribs as he fixes a look across at Louis. Comprehends the depth of what he's saying. What is visible in his face.

His jaw works tight, so he just nods rather than trust his own voice.

Flicks ash away, onto the floor between his boots.