That makes him pause, long enough that he can't recover from it like he might have stumbled on something or lost himself in thought.

"Uh- yeah." Momentarily distracted, he wraps his senses around the other man in the room, trying to gauge his reaction. There's only so many blind Catholic lawyers around, and he's sure he doesn't know the man.

Unfortunately, Matt can't stay focused on that for long. The reason for Lester's apparent discomfort becomes clear. It sets upon the clarity in his head like a dark, heavy fog, and Matt grimaces. Squeezing his eyes shut and turning towards the wall, he makes a soft noise and takes a step away from it, towards the inviting couches. Headaches aren't... usually contagious, as far as he knows. And he's not sure how either of them are supposed to start telling stories with this splitting and shattering going on in his skull.

"Do you dream?" He asks through gritted teeth. "I do. Often. Suffocating. Drowning." His eyes dart around aimlessly. He's not sure what he's supposed to talk about. Where this is supposed to go. He only knows that he's fine to just scratch at the surface of how he's coping with being banished from the pearly gates, even if it's to a recalcitrant partner.