[His eyes avoid Asher, settling instead in the dim corners of the room. Despite the warmth that tinges this moment of reconciliation, this moment made endearing for its peculiarity by the hour and the goofy pajamas donned by the other, Connor cannot help the bitter note he scoffs. And perhaps it is the effect of the late hour, the exhaustion bearing down on his mind, that he lets slip something a little too close to the truth.]

You don't want to be a part of that group. Trust me...you're better off on the outside.

[The Asher he remembers would fall into their little cult of mutual secrets eventually, but the man beside him remains free of that circle which had become his prison even as he eluded jail time for his crimes. This Asher has little idea of the blessing his exlusion truly was.

Then, supposing that it is his turn to pay Asher some kindness, which from him comes awkwardly, rusty with disuse, he says:]

You may be obnoxious at times, and tactless, and your slang is embarrassingly outdated, but... [There's a compliment in here somewhere.] You're not a bad person. Your heart's usually in the right place.