"Anything in particular you'd like me to endeavour to get out of the replicator?" Klaus inquires as she pulls back to sit, and he's headed for the machine and he can still feel the way her hair tickled his face, and the warmth of her hand in his.

His room is simple enough, the only personal touches drawings of his siblings he's pinned above the desk, except Finn is in none of them. Finn is the drawings scattered all over the desk, however, because that's part of his mourning process, apparently, but he can't have him up on the wall, staring at him and asking why he wasn't there, and where was he, and how he could let it happen. It's bloody stupid, because Finn was ready to sacrifice himself, and would not be mad at Klaus for that, but it's really the guilt he feels he puts in his brother's mouth.