He sees the faltering expression, knows it's source because he shares the feeling. Eventually he steps forward, reaching into Emil's pocket to get the pencil, tearing the receipt in half and writing an address down, handing it to the skater.

"Don't come here unless it's an emergency, alright? It's not a good place for someone like you. I'm not going anywhere, Emil. I've been here waiting for years...I don't think a few months will be the end of us, hm?" Reno murmurs, sighing softly before cupping the side of the other man's head and leaning it to press a kiss to his hair. That seemed safe enough, right?

"I'll call. Just let it go to voicemail. I hate talking on the phone. You'll get to hear the dulcet tones of my voice, know I'm still around, and I don't have to feel weird telling you things I should be saying to your face. Rest up. I'll see you later."