Now that he's not going to allow room service, I better keep track...

Break's door now has the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the doorknob, but while that can strike fear into some peoples' hearts with other rooms, Break's room is actually fairly tidy. It's clearly lived in, but he does his best to keep it neat. However, you'll have to turn on the lights to see this, since they're definitely off (Break has never turned on the lights himself for obvious reasons).

The beds are both unmade, but both show signs of being used. If someone is creepy and smells the sheets, it'll be clear that Break just uses both of them instead of preferring one over the other. The only thing of note is that one of the comforters has a very small set of stains on one of the end corners. They're several days old and it doesn't look like Break tried to clean them off at all minus wiping up the what caused the stain... Looking closer will show that it's definitely bloodstains.

The dresser is also full of ugly-ass clothes, though the notebook is sitting on some clothes in the top drawer. The pen is still at the beside table. The notebook has a few pages missing, all torn out, but you'll be able to find all of the pieces. In fact, two of them are sitting on the dresser, though they're a bit odd. One piece is folded into four (like so) and is sitting at the ##CHECK WITH AKI## back of the dresser, slightly behind the television. It's blank. There are also two pieces of paper tucked under the corner of the television, both folded in half (like so). However, the two pieces are from a page from the notebook being torn in half, and the two pieces of paper fit together, so they're clearly the same page. They're also blank.

The safe contains quite a few more things than last time. Emily is still sitting front and center in the safe, and the same letter to "Lady Sharon" is tucked underneath her. There's another piece of paper tucked underneath, and it has the same, messy blind man's scrawl:

If you're reading this because I'm dead, then please give Emily to Miata.
To Miata: My only request is that you take care of this doll. Return it if you can.

There's another notebook in the safe as well, but it's easy to tell where it came from. The only thing in the notebook is a very nice sketch of Break knitting, which will identify this as Gilbert's notebook. Inside, you'll find Clover's letter, and there are also four pieces of paper which are seemingly blank tucked into the book. However, if you look or feel closely, there are clearly indents in the paper where someone was trying to write. These are Gilbert's letters to Break, which can be transcribed if someone really puts their mind to it. These notes are bundled together with a folded piece of paper that just has a single word written on it, though: "DON'T". That's for you, safe searcher.

There are also seven cigarette boxes that are neatly stacked up in the corner. Opening each will show a different letter. Finally, there's a half-finished scarf that's messy and mismatched in some of its colors, but they're largely monochrome shades of grey.

Sitting in a corner of the room is a container from one of our various locations, and it's filled with knitting supplies. There's a lot of yarn of various colors, and sitting on top of the pile is a scarf in progress. This one is ##CHECK red, yellow and green.

The closet is filled with ugly-ass clothes since Break has no sense of fashion. Though notably, there is one finished scarf of Break's hanging up on a hanger. It's pink and blue, but he wasn't able to give it to the person that requested it.
crazily: (Default)

Week 0

Tuesday Morning, with Gilbert — "Approach it as if we were reporting to Pandora, so let me know your thoughts on any of them in particular if you have any."

Week 2

Sunday Night, with Gilbert — " I certainly wouldn't have held it against you. Actually, I wold have almost been proud, though that's probably a terrible thing to say."

Week 3

Irrelevant Time, with Rhys — "I doubt anything would come of it, but still, I can't help but be interested in prosthetics lately."

Thursday Night, reaction — "But you can't save anyone, can you?"

Thursday Night, with Gilbert — "I... didn't think it would still be on me. And I have no idea how it got in my eye."

Sunday Night, with Gilbert — "It's nothing I'll persue, but I do wonder how many people simply picked Morrigan just because they weren't able to feel as if they were the ones killing a child."

Week 4

Mondayish, with Urashima — "Well, he's his normal, gloomy self, more or less. Ah, probably gloomier, now that I think about it~."

Monday Evening, with Rhys — "Well, well, when you put it that way, I'm curious. What did you really think about this last trial?"

Sunday Night, with Gilbert — "I tried to cut off her head at that point, but it was a poor decision on my part."

Week 5

Monday, with Alisha — " imagined that we were playing for others' amusement, but not quite as if we were teams."

Monday, with Urashima — "Then would you permit me to tell my side of the story?"

Wednesday, with Undyne, Gilbert — ""You're too sick" this and "you should take it easy" that~."

Irrelevant Time with Lucy — "I'll admit that I'm stubborn, but I don't really want to go to an early grave because of that."

Thursday Night, with Gilbert and Rhys — "Agility is my advantage, so I would disable her before she ever had a chance to strike. ♥"

Sunday Night, with Rhys — "It's about time the children realized the sort of game they were playing in."

Week 6

Irrelevant Time, with Undyne — "At best, she's a coward, and at worst, she's just playing all of us."

Irrelevant Time, with Astrid — "I think you might actually be onto something, so I'd like to hear a bit more, if you wouldn't mind."

Friday Night, Various — "Well, well~. Enjoying our little break, I hope~?"

Week 7

Friday Night, with Rhys, Miata — "I promise you that I'll do whatever it takes. I still don't know how much you know about who I am, but know this: No matter what road it sets me on, I'll honor a promise until my last breath."

Friday Night, with Rhys — "I... don't like asking for help, but circumstances here at least make me know that I need to."

Saturday Night, reaction — "I'm not the one that should still be alive, idiot."

Sunday Night/Monday Morning, with Gilbert — "...If you're listening, then let me just say first that you're a bastard, Gilbert."

Week 8

Monday, with Undyne — "...You were really okay with it after just punching me?"

Tuesday Morning, with Clover — "Really, so long as you're cooking, please don't worry about my tastes. I'm not a very picky eater."

Tuesday Night, with Lithuania, Rhys — "I'd venture to say that I'm not as bad as Rhys on that front, but I certainly care very little for very nearly everyone left."

Tuesday, with Gilbert, Rhys, Morrigan — "If this is you overreacting to something stupid again, I'm going to kill you, Gilbert."

Wednesday Night, with Gilbert — "So you better not tell anyone else. If you ruin this for me, then a lot will be at stake, you~ know~?"

Thursday Night, reaction — "Even if you know it's wrong, you can't help yourself, can you?"

Thursday Night, with Gilbert — "I know dammit..."

Saturday, with Gilbert — "...Don't disappear halfway writing through a message, idiot."

Sunday night, with Undyne and Clover — "I'll use what little life I have left for this, so if you can't trust me, then at least put your trust in that."

Week 9

Monday, reaction — a note for Clover

Monday Night, with Poland, Lithuania — "Keeping it a secret is no problem, but the fact that he would mention that over anything else..."

Tuesday Evening, with Gilbert, Undyne, Clover — "You're all more annoying dead than you were alive, I hope you know.

Wednesday, with Undyne, Clover, Gilbert — "You're the ones that are going to kill me at this rate!!"

Thursday Night, with Rhys, Gilbert, Undyne, Clover, Alisha — "Neither of us exactly cut out to be heroic, are we? Yet somehow that's the hand that we've been dealt."

Week 10

Sunday Morning, with Rhys, Sans, Papyrus, Undyne — "It's a high price for entry, you know. ♥"

Tuesday, with Undyne — "I know exactly what failing to protect people feels like, so throwing things at me isn't going to give me any more ability to set things right."

Wednesday, with Gilbert — "I don't think I'll live another week, Gilbert."

Thursday, with Dhaos — "Is there something I can help you with?"

Saturday, with Rhys, Clover, Undyne — "...Wonderful. You know, I'd really prefer to save my own world before trying to save others."

Saturday Night, with Rhys, Lucifer — "Don't tell me that Undyne was right. Are you afraid?"
crazily: it was only a sits (started out with a sits)
break made friends and is alarmed about it: a saga
crazily: (knows all about your little game)
[ So after Undyne leaves him to his manpain with a punch, it seems that Break at least considered why he got that punch. It's probably more than Undyne expects, but still, Break will be tracking her down on Monday. It's presumably after the motives, but Team Pride is too proud to murder, so it's totally fine... ]


[ Once Break actually has her attention, he doesn't actually pause awkwardly like he would normally tend to. It seems sincere. ]

I owe you an apology.
crazily: (listen here you motherfucker)
[ Weirdly, Break actually isn't in his room or getting punched by Undyne. In fact, he doesn't return to his room until very late at night/early the next morning. He has a handkerchief in his hand that's stained with blood, but he tosses it on one of the beds without much thought. Break paces around the room briefly, and it seems like he's anxious about something, but finally, he laughs. His gaze turns up, and he feels stupid doing this, but he takes a seat on his bed and folds his hand in his lap. He's not quite looking at anything, and his breath is heavy and wet because of the death shocks, but he still speaks to... seemingly no one. ]

...If you're listening, then let me just say first that you're a bastard, Gilbert.

[ He's talking about the letters here, as will become clear as he continues. Break shifts uncomfortably where he's sitting on his bed, since this is a bit awkward, but he just continues talking softly. ]

But... I'll do my best. There was a while where I hesitated, but it's like I said to you before. I have to remember my priorities. Even if— Even if it doesn't end up working in the end, I have to try and survive. I still have no intention of dying here. I'll take your stupid letter to heart.

[ There's another pause, but this one is longer before he stands up. ]

I just wanted you to know that. Even if you're dead, I know you'd be worrying like an idiot.
crazily: (confused as how you reload this chicken)
When Break returns to his room for the night, he finally lets the exhaustion he feels sweep over him. It weighs down on him in a way that's physical, and exhales a long, sharp breath as if he had been holding it in all day. Here, when he's alone, he finally has the chance to show it.

It still doesn't feel real. Nothing in the past twenty-four hours really does.

What he wouldn't give to react as he had to Reim's "death" now, he thinks. Turning his emotions into that finely honed rage was what he excelled at, and for each time he could cut into someone, it made these unpleasant feelings ebb away. He didn't like to think about when that had started to happen, whether it was when he had Albus at his side or if he had always been that way, but the truth had been that for a very long time. The idea of taking life or making people suffer, it dulled these sorts of feelings.

He supposes he should be happy for the surprise of last night as a result. That tiny hope was all he needed to focus and not give in to what he's feeling completely, but it's still hard. He can look into the suspects' faces and smile, but he imagines running his sword through every single one of them. Only that sliver of hope prevents him from acting on the impulse.

Break sighs again, but less heavily this time. Even if exhaustion hangs on his shoulders, there's still work to be done. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out those blank letters before he opens and smooths them onto his dresser. His fingertips linger over the indents without really thinking of the letters, because the fact that Gilbert would do this for him was unsurprising. Objectively, this is exactly the sort of ridiculously sentimental thing that Gilbert would do. Part of him feels the same sort of feeling he had when Sharon had told him just why Gilbert had learned to cook.

But far more than that, it feels like he's standing at Shelly's bedside again. It's the same sort of crisis that comes from knowing you're receiving someone's parting words. Even if he wanted to deny it, even if he felt that he didn't even deserve them at all, the warmth of those words always reaches him. It's why he's afraid to run his fingertips over these letters.

His fingertips find the beginning of the note, and he reads each word aloud as he catches it to help him discern the meaning. They've gotten slightly out of order because of how he and Poland had flipped through them, but as he continues, he actually feels a sense of relief. With the way Gilbert is talking in these letters, Break understands that they're small records, like a diary. It gets Break's unease to calm, though he does occassionally pause over certain parts as their irony twists at his heart.

They're notes to Break written this way for privacy. With talks of their plans and all of the things that they had been quietly planning, that's a good decision, and he also understands why Gilbert would go through such lengths to hide it. If he did die, that idiot would never want to implicate Break. This is his way of being cautious, and as he realizes that, Break breathes out a laugh tinged with pride. He'd taught him well, though perhaps he shouldn't be feeling pride over that.

I feel a little hopeful he says on the second to last letter, and that twists at Break's heart though it gets him to smile sadly. He would, of course. That was just the sort of luck that surrounded him both, and he finds it all the more cruelly ironic that his life would end with a beheading of all things. Their bad luck would truly never leave them, and the thought even makes him laugh. With one more letter to go, Break isn't feeling quite so much dread. Even if they had Gilbert's soft-hearted nature throughout, it was a record. That, he can handle. Yet as he starts that last letter, Break's fingers falter very quickly.

I wouldn't be writing this letter if I did.

Break falls completely silent as he continues to think through the words his fingers are feeling out, but it returns all that dread and pressure quickly. His expression falls as he bows his head forward, but he continues on. There's only the moment of his hand as he reads through this last letter, but by the time he gets to the "thank you," his hand is shaking.

"You..." he speaks softly, and even he's surprised by just how shaky it sounds, "You're cruel, Gilbert. It was supposed to be me, not—"

Break's voice trails off into nothing as his hand moves to steady himself on the dresser. His fingers curl desperately against the wood like he's trying to dig into it. His chest tightens, and he chokes out a noise that could be a sob, but it's angrier and harsher. It doesn't even sound human to his own ears, but it strikes him as soon as he says it aloud so heavily that he can't keep it inside anymore.

"I'm not the one that should still be alive, idiot."

He doesn't deserve that. It's not even something practical like a matter of his illness that pulls that thought out of him so bitterly. It's much deeper than that. Of anyone, Break doesn't feel that he deserves to continue living. For all that he's done, and for all that he will do, he'll deserve his death when it comes to him. He had been playing this stupid game not for the idea of saving himself or that he might return home, because he didn't think he would. Instead, just saving Gilbert would be enough. He could only pray that it would be enough. He had been willing to do anything to try and secure that, but he had hesitated for the sake of trying to not get Gilbert too tangled up in his sentimentality.

Break's gaze lifts, and now he feels the sharp heat at the corner of his remaining eye, but he doesn't even acknowledge it. It hadn't been enough. That truth sinks in, and even though he's not looking at anything, the despair and anger he feels mixes together so that his expression is contorted with both. He hasn't felt this vulnerable in a long time, and his heart hammers in his ears.

In this moment, he only remembers her words.

You can't save anyone, can you?
crazily: (I love upvoting everyone that comments)
[ After a certain conversation, Break and Rhys had back to their rooms, but before they part ways, Break beckons for Rhys to come inside. He seems to have something else he'd like to say, and as he closes the door after them, his expression softens, perhaps surprisingly. Break has been cold and detached all day, since perhaps that's just simply how he processes what happened today, but now grief shows in little parts of his expression. It's still a ghost of grief, like he's not comfortable with allowing anymore than this, but it's still more than anything else he had shown today.

And yet, what he actually says might be surprising. It's not about their conversation at all, but instead something much more practical. Though still, the fact that he has to ask at all is where that grief is coming from even if he tries to push it away. ]

I... don't like asking for help, but circumstances here at least make me know that I need to.

[ He says this extremely awkwardly, so it at least conveys the sense that he's completely telling the truth about being an awkward old grandpa that doesn't like asking for help. ]

Would you mind helping me out from time to time? I do fairly well on my own, but if it's anything that relies too much on sight, then I can't quite manage that. Reading, especially.
crazily: (how do you know Rob Ford?)
[ Sure, we've been playing body part scavenger hunt this week, but more importantly, this week does mark something new. With Friday having passed, no one is dead, seemingly as promised. Granted, the food has been less than appealing this week, but. Still. There's still cause for at least a little celebration.

If you're an adult (so far as Break is concerned, which is 18+), you'll be invited to the general store that evening, since why go far from the alcohol? Break could lug it back to his room, but if we're honest, there's way more interesting stuff to mess with when drinking in the general store itself. Drinking and slingshots? How could that ever go wrong?

Break has at least recruited Gilbert and Rhys to help him lug out as many cups and mugs as he could, and all of the spirits available are laid out on the counter. There's nothing to mix with, since we're the Salty Spittoon, not Weenie Hut Jr., duh. You know what this means. ]

[ Much like the teen slumber party, feel free to use this post as a general mingle! make toplevels, threadjack, you know the drill, etc.! The 18 and under crowd can come hang out, but they won't be allowed to partake in the liquor, how sad. ]
crazily: (do we vote for ambassadors?)
[ At some point early in the week, Break will make a point to track down Astrid. It's probably not too hard, considering this is a small place, but! He's definitely pointedly looking for her, which is a bit unusual for him. As soon as he finds her, he'll wave an oversized sleeve in her direction to catch her attention. ]

Ah, hello Astrid~! I've been wanting to ask you something...

[ He lowers his hand back to his side, but it's also to reach into his pocket and pull out a hard candy. It's for himself, though, since he's bad at sharing. ]

Would you mind chatting with an old man for a bit~?
crazily: (coming this fall to NBC)
[ when does this take place??? A Mystery. It's definitely night, though, because when else would Undyne be literally hauling grandpa up to the roof. Really, the true mystery here is how Undyne convinced Break to have a conversation on a roof, but. He at least seems to trust her enough to not just throw him off of it on a Monday or whatever.

Though, still. Being carried is... a bit embarrassing. Undyne will probably also notice just how light he is, since he's definitely built like a weenie hut jr. even if his personality is a salty spittoon. ]

...If you drop me, I'll haunt you and everyone you care for. By the way~.

[ He's just saying!! ]
crazily: (practiced with someone else's hands)
[ since we're all thirsty and can't actually wait until the week starts lbr ]

[ But it's probably Sunday night that Break will come visit Rhys for once. After resting for the week, he's definitely feeling better, so coming to call instead of being called on is definitely his preference here. He knocks lightly on the door, but as soon as it's opened, a Hyperion Yellow scarf is tossed over Rhys's shoulders and then tied in a knot. Of course he couldn't start this out normally. ]

And there you are~. Hopefully it's as yellow as you were hoping.

[ He waves a hand at Rhys. ]

May I come in~?
crazily: (this is poetic)
[ So here they are, the three shady stooges... Break has been dutifully working on a Hyperion Yellow (tm) scarf for Rhys, but he's actually almost done by this point. And so he's also getting a bit bored. Maybe they just need something to break up the night, because knowing these three idiots, they've probably been like sitting quietly in different corners trying to not acknowledge that they're having a slumber party. ]

Ehh... It's not even that late yet, is it~? Thursdays are really the worst.

[ Because, like, murder, but also because they're so long? Like Break doesn't sleep much anyways, but sleeping on Thursdays nights is even harder. He'll ask Gilbert to write down his knitting numbers for him, but then moves to sit crosslegged on the bed like he's not a middle-aged man... ]

I need to take a break from knitting, so~. What should we do~?
crazily: (oreos are the answer to many a struggle)
[ Granted, Break had expected to be more or less bedridden after pushing himself so hard the past week, but still... It's so boring. Gilbert at least stays with him most of the time, though Break doesn't let him stay all the time. He truly hates the feeling of being a burden or being looked after like a child, so every so often, he makes Gilbert go do something else instead of tending to him.

Though at the very least, Break does ask him to keep the door open when he leaves. With not much else to do, Break would at least welcome company from others. At least being bored makes him more sociable?

So when Lucy comes by, the door is open for visitors, and Break is being his usual weirdass self, of course. He just has a bit of string, but he's making complex designs with them, because honestly, what else is he going to do... ]
crazily: (I have no idea what happened here)
[ Or generally after their deathshocks are gone and Break also manages to get permission to leave nurse Gilbert...

Considering the dream he had while he was out, he does feel a bit of urgency. Granted, before the trial, he may not have sought any of the other members of Team Pride out, but considering the evening he had spent with Alisha scolding him a bit, he did trust her enough for this. It's not much trust, since Break doesn't give such a thing easily, but he at least expects that it's something he could speak to her about.

So at some point when she's in her room during the day, there's a very light knock on her door. Though of course, being a gentleman, he'll announce himself shortly after. ]

Miss Alisha? It's Break.
crazily: please do not take! (get your shit together Matt.)
[ Thankfully, Undyne caught Break while swooning, which truly saves him from just cracking his head on something. Thanks, Undyne! ]

[ Wherever Gilbert manages to drag Break, it's probably a worrying while for him. Even if Break is unconscious, those deathshocks still affect him, so his breathing stays even, but rapid and heavy, like he's eternally trying to catch his breath, and he sweats fairly heavily. It probably doesn't sound good either, considering the state of Break's lungs (probably), so his breath rattles with effort the longer he's out.

Yet roughly four hours after he passes out, he suddenly takes a much deeper breath as he awakes that definitely has a note to it that implies a certain sense of fear. Hopefully Gilbert isn't nearby, because Break sits up in a flash and swings a fist. He also reaches for his cane where it would normally be sitting at his bedside, but I'm going to say that luckily, Gilbert had the sense to not put that in his reach so that turbosin doesn't happen... ]
crazily: (his hand is made from human?)
[ Or something like that... Time doesn't matter okay. ]

[ Though as Urashima is looking for Break, he'll at least not have to look very hard. Break is predictable enough in his routines, so while he's out of his room for a while to talk with Gilbert, he'll return before long. He has his door cracked, which at least means that he'll talk to anyone that comes by. Urashima is welcome to knock, though he could also just come in. ]
crazily: (frosted tips are so 90s)
[ All things considered, receiving a knock at your door at ass o'clock in the morning in a murdergame probably isn't something that's going to be well received. If Gilbert isn't already awake, then Break is fairly certain that the knock, soft as it is, will probably still startle that nervous idiot awake.

He shifts the towel on his face, then speaks through the door softly. He doesn't want anyone else to know that they're up and awake, since he already knows how suspicious this is going to look. ]

It's me. Just open the door, since I need your help.
crazily: please do not take! (radio killed this video star)
He dreams of Miata, actually.

He's standing at a fire, and though there are figures around the bonfire, none of them are distinct. The only face he sees is Miata's, and he simply listens, waiting to hear what she has to say. A list floats in the air, and she speaks clearly.

"...I'm sorry. By a majority vote, Gilbert Nightray has been found guilty for—"

The rest of the words fade out from there. Perhaps he doesn't hear them. Perhaps they don't matter. But Break knows what those words mean, and so he turns. It feels like he's turning incredibly slowly, like time is slowing down around him. He just needs to find one face here, and then he can save them. He just have to save one person, but as he turns, dainty, child-like hands settle over his eyes as if playing a game.

"But you can't save anyone, can you?"

He doesn't need to see her to know, because he'll never forget that voice until the day he dies. The Will of the Abyss speaks right into his ear, but as he tries to pull away, her fingers dig into his eyes. He feels pain that's familiar, but he still reaches out, groping in the darkness, because if he can just save one person, then—

Break wakes up in a cold sweat.

He feels his eyes open, but the darkness from his dream stays. It always does now. He takes a deep, rattling breath to center himself, and he hates just how much it shakes his chest now. It hadn't always been this bad. He had never quite been healthy, but it never came with this feeling of trying so hard to draw a full breath. Break reaches up and grips his chest, murmuring a bitter curse under his breath as he tries to catch it. It hurts, and at least when he's alone, he doesn't have to hide that.

Break stumbles out of bed, and as he stumbles against the corner of the second one, he remembers. Right. This isn't his home at all, so he has to reorient himself. The picture he has in his mind of the room shifts in a moment from the Rainsworth mansion to the blank image of the hotel, because he can't imagine any detail here. He's never seen it, so he only knows where furniture lies and nothing more. Still, it's difficult, and with how his chest burns with heaviness, it feels like that mental image is blurring. Perhaps it's just hard to stay concious? Ahh, sometimes it's hard to tell which it is lately.

But he manages to stumble to the bathroom all the same, and though he feels his chest settled with a familiar heaviness, he doesn't feel the need to cough immediately. He's prepared for it, since that unpleasant sensation is familiar too, but it doesn't come. It's at least calmingly cooler in here, so Break sighs and pats at the wall until he finds the broadest portion, and he sinks down against it. With every movement, he feels that weight, and at this time of the night (whatever it is), it's easier for him to just fully relax and not try and hide the strain it causes him.

This was fine.

This was what he deserved.

He repeats that to himself softly, but when he repeats those familiar words, he realizes just what this heaviness is. It wasn't strain, exactly. It was something far more dangerous than that, so far as he's concerned.

"Grief, wasn't it?" he asks to no one in particular, and he wheezes out a laugh as he relaxes against the wall. His head taps the tile, but he still reaches up to cover his mouth like he's afraid that he'll cough up blood at any time. "You don't exactly need to sell me any more of that, you know."

But it burns in his chest all the same. He had perhaps spoken too practically too soon, because being frank with Gilbert about his own mortality made this weight all the worse. He hated feeling sorry for himself. But this weight was terrifying, honestly. The next time it happened, would he be able to draw a breath at all? Would he feel strength ebb out of him? Or would it be quicker? They were all what he deserved, certainly, and yet...

He didn't want to die.

Not here. Not ever, really, but the inevitability of that was at least easier to swallow. Somehow, without even noticing, there was suddenly so much he wanted to live for. The idea of dying had been something he had welcomed not even five years ago, but now he just thinks of what that would mean. He would never be able to tell Reim that he was truly a friend that he had come to treasure. He couldn't express how grateful he was to Sheryl that she had taken a gamble by taking in the Red-Eyed Ghost. And Sharon—

Well, he wasn't sure what he would say to her at all.

Perhaps a simple "thank you"?

His chest tightens painfully at the thought, and he just chokes out a laugh because he's not sure what else to do. His unseeing gaze turns to the ceiling and he reaches out towards it, though it's just an idle gesture. He sees and feels nothing with it. Pathetic. It really is pathetic, and it sends his mind back to places it would rather not be.

In that moment, he understands with clarity just how tempting this motive was meant to be.
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