Sal removes his jacket without hesitation, but has to take a deep breath before he moves close and drapes it over Eureka's shoulders, not making any physical contact at all. With anyone else, he might've smoothed the fabric down their arms or carefully fished out their hair from under the collar of his jacket, but that's impossible. He bows his head for a second, catching a whiff of their perfume (isn't this...?), before stepping back to a safe distance.

"What'd you wanna talk about?" Away from the eyes from the party, Sal's face is open, his voice quiet. He doesn't move like he's injured, but of course he wouldn't. Without his jacket on, it's easier to spot the shadow of bandages wrapped around his torso, and more bruising on his clavicle, through the open collar of his shirt.