No. [He slides from the window like a piece of the night detaching itself from the outside and stands up inside her room. It hasn't hit him until now that this is the first time he's been here and for a moment he can feel the urge to flee clench tight in his chest. Red eyes flick around the immediate area, as if he expected to find some sort of the threat beyond the one that Angela presented. Not the blaster, no- he's hardly afraid of the little sidearm she has, whether Overwatch insisted she have it or she started keeping it around after Lacroix's death; or maybe she's always had it. Either way, he thinks that she might frighten him more without it.]

I... wanted to see you, before- [He spots the hologram on her desk of the new suit. He's still not sure he entirely understands why she had been so insistent on having his input; she probably could have built the thing with her eyes closed and one hand tied behind her back. The green is nice, though... he likes it better than the red and black. He looks back at her.] -before the operation.

[He does his best not to let himself get too distracted by the way she looks in just the shorts and top- without her coat or the tablet she always seemed to have at her side, the tidy blouses and sensible shoes. In a strange way, it's better like this he thinks. If she had still been in her work clothes, he doesn't think he would have had the courage. There's a part of him that wishes he could have the same luxury, a choice to shed the brands he wore and be someone else... but he doesn't even know who that person would be. Maybe, just maybe, they would look like the flickering hologram behind her.]

I'm leaving after it's done. I did not want you to think me ungrateful. [It's almost the most he's said to her in a conversation that didn't involve an argument, his voice quiet, as if speaking too loud would break something.]