Everything he did seem to set the Nosferatu off-balance in a way that neither of them seemed to enjoy. Thankfully, he could hide his morose expression - or at least redirect it at his ruined works. He could feel his heart squeezing again, that psychological pain coming back so quickly that it startled him and he placed his free hand on his chest as if he had to physically hold his heart in lest it burst forth and run away in a sudden showing of life it didn't have.
"What an unfortunate curse," he murmured, but he fell into step with Kjell, squeezing his hand a bit tighter as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "Though that does not tell me if you enjoyed the showing." The words were a distraction for himself. Getting so much closer to the destroyed works brought reality far too close to his liking.