Something. The kiss? The talk? Both? Maxwell didn't know for certain, but what did it really matter. What was done was done.

"...I'm not angry," he said with a little shift of his shoulders and a deep breath. "It would have been nice, but - you're alright. That's what matters."

The dark bruise and the latrine duty notwithstanding.

He touched his cheek lightly. "Harding give you that?"