[ He thinks he's starting to recognise it when she's looking. There's a gentle prodding into his head, like a small hand poking at the small of his back, right at the barrier where he feels something and when all feeling disappears. He looks at her for another long moment, not knowing what to say.
There are dozens of possibilities. Maybe he should say that she's lying. Maybe he should offer comfort. But he simply picks up the empty vial from beneath the blankets, running his fingers over the warm, smooth glass. ]
Probably. [ Dryly. ] Given how your world is like.
no subject
There are dozens of possibilities. Maybe he should say that she's lying. Maybe he should offer comfort. But he simply picks up the empty vial from beneath the blankets, running his fingers over the warm, smooth glass. ]
Probably. [ Dryly. ] Given how your world is like.
[ He pauses, still looking at the vial. ]
What are you still doing here?