Cecil nodded in reply, because his voice was finding his breath difficult to catch up to. He was sure that Carlos felt similarly.

He didn't let go of Carlos' hand as he followed him inside. The cameras would make note of that, he was sure - he would be able to watch this again later if he wanted to, should he find his memory lacking in exuberant color commentary.

"We do have a lot to talk about," he said, once the door had shut behind them and they were weaving their way between tables, rather than camerapeople. "I want to hear all about the Arena. ...Also, about everything you've been doing since the Arena." This with slightly more appropriate gravity. Slightly. "I mean, I've... pretty much just been watching the Games, avoiding infected zones, and broadcasting disappointing news with municipally-mandated blitheness, so."

I've been staying in line, was implied there. He added, brighter: "Khoshekh missed you! We watched you compete together."

He wanted to ask more specific questions. He wanted to know if the Capitol really had had it out for Carloa in the Arena. He wanted to know what Carlos had learned since coming back. But even in the dull roar of this crowd, he did not quite want to bring up something so sensitive yet. He didn't trust that they weren't still being watched.

...Also, he still needed a moment to recover from that kiss. He might need a few more moments to recover from that kiss.