Come on, I don't have a type. ( he doesn't think so, at least. maybe there are similarities between a few of the women he's been with but that doesn't make a type, does it? no, it doesn't.

he slides his hands into the pocket of his jacket but with the match gone, he feels cold again. it's a sharp chill but he tries not to think about it. )

It hasn't been that long since I last saw you. ( a few days, maybe? a week, at the most? it can't have been that long but he's learned that it might be different for her. ) But yes, I missed you. It's...really good to see you.

( considering who else is here, her presence is both a relief and a boost for him. )