I take it you get a lot of eyelashes batting at you.
[ At the very least, Clive agrees that the room is both of theirs. He would feel a bit bad that the man's doing everything whilst he's trying to recover. When his new friend leaves him, he lifts his hand to flex his fingers. A chill runs down each digit. He finally allows himself to wince and grimace.
Breathing slowly, he adjusts how he's sitting in the chair. He initially just resting but it's more of a slumped position. Both hands on the arms, he pushes himself up with some difficulty to put his legs underneath him to move. A sharp inhale before he's sitting back down. It's like ice ripping through his body. Creating small fractures in his soul.
His head turns as he hears the water and what he assumes is a curse. Pursing his lips, he leans a little to try to glimpse into the bathroom. Another arduous breath as he starts to weave chroma through his body to mend what's hurting. Clive is right that the physical exhaustion is easy to recover. But the injury to the soul is going to take longer. An ailment that seems like he'll need maybe even a day to recover.
And this is coming from a man who can be cleaved in half.
He tips his head up when Clive returns before he offers him a look of surprise. ]
Oh, are we sharing a bath? [ And he's reaching to take his arm. ]
no subject
[ At the very least, Clive agrees that the room is both of theirs. He would feel a bit bad that the man's doing everything whilst he's trying to recover. When his new friend leaves him, he lifts his hand to flex his fingers. A chill runs down each digit. He finally allows himself to wince and grimace.
Breathing slowly, he adjusts how he's sitting in the chair. He initially just resting but it's more of a slumped position. Both hands on the arms, he pushes himself up with some difficulty to put his legs underneath him to move. A sharp inhale before he's sitting back down. It's like ice ripping through his body. Creating small fractures in his soul.
His head turns as he hears the water and what he assumes is a curse. Pursing his lips, he leans a little to try to glimpse into the bathroom. Another arduous breath as he starts to weave chroma through his body to mend what's hurting. Clive is right that the physical exhaustion is easy to recover. But the injury to the soul is going to take longer. An ailment that seems like he'll need maybe even a day to recover.
And this is coming from a man who can be cleaved in half.
He tips his head up when Clive returns before he offers him a look of surprise. ]
Oh, are we sharing a bath? [ And he's reaching to take his arm. ]