He's not so gone he doesn't miss that. But he doesn't press. He's not her moirail and he's not sure what good he can offer now anyway. Enough has happened to him, it would be inevitable shit got done on her. He squeezes her hand.
He's about to speak when he feels her touch on his face. It startles him and he nearly jerks away. But ultimately, it's something in the dark and with his free hand he reaches up, his head lifting again as he tries to get a sense of his world.
"SHE CAN PATCH SIGHT? A miracle. A MOTHERFUCKING MIRACLE WORKER IS SHE," He teases, unhinged. But then his face smoothes again and his head rests into her hand just that slight bit. He says softer, "He should like to motherfucking rest, dear ashleaf."
no subject
He's about to speak when he feels her touch on his face. It startles him and he nearly jerks away. But ultimately, it's something in the dark and with his free hand he reaches up, his head lifting again as he tries to get a sense of his world.
"SHE CAN PATCH SIGHT? A miracle. A MOTHERFUCKING MIRACLE WORKER IS SHE," He teases, unhinged. But then his face smoothes again and his head rests into her hand just that slight bit. He says softer, "He should like to motherfucking rest, dear ashleaf."