[ his brow twitches once. twice. he looks down at the paper and he just sort of... grabs at the paper left on it. he can't. really read it bc none of us can mcfucking read right now, not unless he focuses, so he's left just sort of. curling fingers around the paper until it crumples.
his knuckles go white.
a wash of regret. the cup. the papers. the books. his letter. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
far off as he eyes trail over emet's shoulder. ]
Did I...?
[ his brow twitches once. twice. he looks down at the paper and he just sort of... grabs at the paper left on it. he can't. really read it bc none of us can mcfucking read right now, not unless he focuses, so he's left just sort of. curling fingers around the paper until it crumples.
his knuckles go white.
a wash of regret. the cup. the papers. the books. his letter. ]
no subject
[something doesn't seem right, about this, it's just-- putting his finger on what.]
Try this again later, as well, and ensure whether this response repeats itself.
no subject
[ he stands there. numbly. his voice is steady, oddly calm, but there's an edge to it. ]
I'm fine. I think.
I'm fine.
no subject
[he's standing next to him, by now, not reaching out to touch but certainly close enough.]
Just- speak to me. Whatever is going through your mind, put voice to it, and mayhap we will see what is causing this.