[ He's never hallucinated something so solid, so warm. Something that kept up a conversation so long. It's- shit, maybe it's a sign that he's worse than he thought he was, but for now it's nice. He closes his eyes, letting Arn hold him steady. ]
In- shit. I am, aren't I? [ There's a warmth to it, a real, rare note of wistful contentment. ]
no subject
In- shit. I am, aren't I? [ There's a warmth to it, a real, rare note of wistful contentment. ]