She's pulling out the kid gloves. Well, he can't say it isn't warranted.

Phil is quiet for a moment, scratching the back of his neck.

"... No. Not right now."

He glances around, trying to think of something else to talk about, but all he can see is Darcy's things. Darcy's house. Darcy's jacket, one of Darcy's sword, the screwy ongoing "anarchy chess" game with a knife stuck in the board that Darcy and Hawk have been playing whenever he visits. And it, just... hurts.

"... um."

He can't think of anything else.