"If you try to leave again it will be worse." A flat glare, albeit weak. But he loosens his grip and leans more than presses against Melkor, shifting the weight off of the injury, and drops his forehead onto the shoulder before him.

Before he even replies verbally he's already reaching back, curling into Melkor in a way that can't be physically described. The knock does little to stop him.

"Does everyone here have such impeccable timing?" Muffled. He lifts his head to rest his chin upon Melkor's shoulder instead, to address the person on the other side of the door. "Who is it?"