Sometimes, without even knowing it, Ed is a hurricane of words and information--processing highly specific and specalised concepts and breakneck speed and not really caring or noticing who is or isn't keeping up with him unless prompted.

Oswald remembers this feeling, the flurry of excitement that is very uniquely Ed that kind of sweeps around him, filling space he hadn't realised existed or hadn't quite gotten to yet.

It's familiar and warm and welcoming. And he hates it.

For a few moments, Oswald is entirely still and quiet, trying to wrap his head around the information overload going on.

He doesn't reach for the coat and he barely even moves at all. Different timelines. That's absurd. This entire thing is absurd. A wild, cruel joke.

"... an argument?" is where he finally finds his voice, though it's low and quiet, a kind of warning sign.