[ Oh yikes. That was his inside voice on the outside, wasn't it. Matt stares at Magnus, expression not totally unlike that of a dog who's caught his own tail and doesn't have a plan.

He was so close to forgetting the whole thing--just enjoying the flirting, the bonding over magic. For a little while. Anything Matt says now can only make things worse, but not saying anything doesn't seem likely to help either. It'd be an annoying emotional burlesque: pull back the feathered fan long enough to flash a hint of tragedy. ]

Well--I hurt somebody.

[ Gingerly, he shifts off the counter, pulling his towel more securely around his hips. ]

Wasn't trying to. I'm not sure that matters.

[ He shakes his head. ] Anyway, um--I really should, probably, clean off. Nobody'll wanna make oxytocin with me if I look like a slob. It's been really nice meeting you, Magnus.