Matt curled his fingers into his palm when she moved, his hand lingering in the space she'd been for a few beats before he dropped it, letting her move away from him - putting distance between them rather than remaining close where she'd been, where he wanted her.
She'd told him already that she'd killed Stick, a part of him had hoped then that it had been a lie, some taunting thing she threw at him to get a rise out of him, to pull at those parts of him that she seemed so good at bringing to the surface. But here and now, hearing it again - he could hear the truth in her words.
"What does that make you now?" He asked instead. What else could be said for Stick? More of her gruesome details? He knew they wouldn't mourn Stick together, not after everything his former mentor had done to them both - but Matt would later, on his own.