[He sets his own bowl of hot soup on the floor, under his chair. It gives him an excuse to fidget, to move, to feel like he has some chance of scratching that burning itch under his skin. The movement is robotic and it seems to Tim like he could almost watch himself do it, because when he reclines on the chair again and runs a hand absently through Steph's black top, he's pretty sure he can't feel anything.
It's like he has one of those bone-chilling, aching cold fits that accompany high, delirious fevers. He knows that's not the case. But it feels like it. And he remembers the feeling, because it hasn't let him sleep for the past years.
He wonders who's the biggest flight risk: Stephanie or himself. But he's always been a coward when it came to
this.
He stretches his hand out, holding the shirt back to Steph. He can deal with cold. He's spent a lifetime learning how to move despite being frozen by horror.
He should have been there for her. Instead he was with his dad. (Should he even feel guilty about that? About choosing relationship that never could have amounted to anything, instead of the one that never did?)] I don't think it's fair to actually say.
[He wants to avoid her, but stupid self has his eyes locked on her face. They're blank. His eyes are blank. He's-- learned how to do that, too. It's better than giving in to the horror, even if he just sounds-- cold.] Considering I may know more than you do. [No wonder she fucking left.]
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It's like he has one of those bone-chilling, aching cold fits that accompany high, delirious fevers. He knows that's not the case. But it feels like it. And he remembers the feeling, because it hasn't let him sleep for the past years.
He wonders who's the biggest flight risk: Stephanie or himself. But he's always been a coward when it came to
this.
He stretches his hand out, holding the shirt back to Steph. He can deal with cold. He's spent a lifetime learning how to move despite being frozen by horror.
He should have been there for her. Instead he was with his dad. (Should he even feel guilty about that? About choosing relationship that never could have amounted to anything, instead of the one that never did?)] I don't think it's fair to actually say.
[He wants to avoid her, but stupid self has his eyes locked on her face. They're blank. His eyes are blank. He's-- learned how to do that, too. It's better than giving in to the horror, even if he just sounds-- cold.] Considering I may know more than you do. [No wonder she fucking left.]