Wu had heard the door open as she entered, not pausing in his workout until Carmel spoke, and even then he braced himself on curled fists, arms shaking a bit as he looked up to her and gave a little huff of acknowledgement. His eyes dropped as he went back to it, pushing out another handful of push-ups before Wu got his feet under him, rising and flexing his hands tight until the knuckles popped.
"Carmel," he greeted, grabbing a little hand towel from near his shirt and mopping his neck and chest down. Unclothed, the scars he bore were graphic things; both the series of three gunshot wounds on his lower left side and the two long slashes crawling up the right of his chest, one peaking just barely onto his neck. "I was nearly finished in my regimen, but it will not take long, and the space is yours," Wu offered, figuring that if anyone would want distance from him? The warm-natured caterer would be high up on the list. She was nearly his polar opposite, from what Wu had learned of her so far.