"Yeah," He mutters softly. He really didn't want to be followed, but thankfully his back is to Malcolm while he prepares the kettle and he has that second or two to smooth the twinge of annoyed disappointment into a smile. Something soft and subtle, not the wild overcompensation that it really is beneath the surface, because he has so, so many years of perfecting the art of seeming fine when he's anything but under his belt.

He ignores the fact that it's literally Malcolm's job to note the subtleties behind the masks that people wear. He sets the kettle back on the stove.

The problem with Malcolm having followed him is... Klaus can't stand silences. He's the one in the room that will always find ways to fill them. Especially when he's uncomfortable, like he is now. "I didn't mean to--" He huffs and shakes his head, lets his hand drop down to his side. Isn't that the problem? He never means to, things just happen.