For how even-to-annoyed Miguel’s range of expressions were when he talked, it certainly made the incredulous pinch of his face stand out all the more. No, Dan’s upbringing was nothing like what he knew.

But the smirk manages to soften his expression some, and he looks away.

“I miss the idea of only worrying about a desk job. Having room for other things, without worrying if it’ll all be destroyed if you look away too long.”

He switches back to English, as if to better express the banal stakes of dealing with Alchemax’s paper-pushing kind of evil.

“Solo es una fantasía mía. I think if I went back to that now, I’d be terrible at putting up with it.”

(( * It’s just a fantasy of mine. ))

He already knew he made a lousy family man. And there were some changes that weren’t easily undone - as the edge of the thumbclaw on closed palm reminded him.

“It sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”