[ Deflective, Lighter notes silently. But not in the way where he feels as though he's been cast off of something, as a shield, but guided by a gentle hand to look the other direction. Away from a light that could blind him, if he dared look too long.

His curiosity sates and that's a deliberate choice he makes, crossing his arms over his middle. ]

It's true that we're on a bit of a time limit. [ Thirty minutes, if he recalls. ] Another time, then. Over lunch, preferably, rather than all this.

[ An idle invitation for later, to take or to leave. ]

Did you leave by choice?