[ But it's also quickly interrupted by a fit of coughing. Having that kind of raw, physical emotion overwhelm him is enough to make that congestion and difficult breathing spike. He pats at the bed for the handkerchief again, but he doesn't quite grab it before an especially wet cough sends blood onto the comforter. ]

Damn—

[ He spits out the curse (a little literally, since it comes with a splat of blood of its own), but then seems to abandon the handkerchief entirely as the coughing fit dies down. Break stands as soon as he's able, and he moves frantically to the dresser. Even with that one tear that's dripped down his face, it seems like he's ignoring it for now in favor of something else.

Break digs until he finds his (useless) notebook, then tears a page out of it. That piece of paper is torn in half, and each piece folded in half. It's an odd, frantic sort of process, and he's definitely struggling to do it so quickly, but he also isn't stopped by coughing. The two torn sheets of paper are set at opposite ends of the dresser with the folded flaps of paper pointing up. Break is leaning heavily against the dresser, but he's just staring at the wall in front of him intensely. ]

The paper on my left is "yes" and the paper on my right is "no." Flick them for the answer. You can handle some questions, can't you?