Malcolm moves over a stool so there’s one between them.

“You read the messages on Will’s communicator? You have boundary issues, huh? Though his Warden also does that so…” he shrugs and takes another small bite of omelet. “So what’s this about,” he gestures between them with his fork, “if you don’t want to kill me. Because I don’t buy that you’re going to wish me a happy life with Will.”