Well, that's... strange. At the same time it's aggressively familiar, the patter of conversation that he'd often found incessant is if not welcome after so much silence, still somehow comfortable. Like slipping into a well worn shoe. Even if it's not in perfect shape, even the places it's too tight and sporting holes is well known.

Still, he's not so comfortable that he fires back with a gibe like he would have once. Instead he stands straighter, crosses his arms, his jaw flexing and his eyes not quite rolling.

Maybe they roll a little.

"Since when did you limit yourself to just one song?"