[ It's already bittersweet, this thing that they share. Claude is already counting down, sifting the sands of a giant hourglass— usually, people say "all we have is time", but they don't have enough of it.

He gathers his things. Reaches inside his pocket to find his work gloves, to wear the impartiality he always tugs on in front of everyone body but a select few. ]

Not to worry. I'll be making good on my threats in the near future.

[ Breezily, as if he's just telling her he'll be around to have a cup of coffee. ]

Until then, you'll have to live in suspense. You're fond of that, aren't you?