He'd never thought of anywhere as 'home', and Bellum certainly wasn't going to change that if things continued on like this. Despite what he might say, he didn't like the idea of leaving Lotte behind, but now he wondered how much of that protectiveness actually belonged to him and how much of it was because of Erik. He liked her, more so than he liked practically every other person he'd ever encountered, but was that him or his tale? They were too closely entwined to tell. "Well, I can." You cannot separate Christine and I, Erik snapped, but Bran brushed him off. Oh, don't complain. If I move someone else will replace me soon enough.
He knew that the knife made her uncomfortable, but he had no intention of using it unless given reason to. Wiping off the blood as best he could, he kept it hidden up his sleeve so anyone they encountered could be caught off guard. By chance he glanced back and followed her gaze, moving towards the intact door and forcing it open.
Her voice made him pause again, and he tried to think up a proper response. Yes, he could have knocked on her door; but even thinking about it now made him frown. It was hard to explain, but somehow he knew that he wouldn't have been able to - it just didn't seem as easy as she made it sound. "Knocked on your door and said what? You make it sound so easy." this wasn't going well, and he knew anything he said probably wouldn't make much sense to her. "You were making progress," he added, almost defensively. "And I would have stopped once you got your confidence back."