[ Truthfully, it's easier for him to be still once they've settled. Being so injured isn't exactly new; that's two brinks of death he's survived, first by Arad's hand, and now Kaname's. But it is the first time he's shared space with anyone in the aftermath, and he wills the dull, thudding ache of his injuries down as long as he has her on his shoulder. Instead, he focuses on the measure of her breath, strands of hair brushing against his skin. Warmth now curled up between them, however slightly. Messer almost drifts off like that, to the rhythm of her fingertips, only to register — a question?
She's asking him a question. The question. Almost immediately, on pure impulse, he replies. ]
No.
[ Yes. ]
I'm fine.
[ Or rather, that shoulder is fine, relative to the severity of every other injury he's sustained.
Meaning: everything hurts, but he's not going to be the first to admit it. "Be honest" is a command that seems to have ironically flown right over his head. It's just reflex by now to shrug it off, even if he's all but immobile thanks to it. Messer knows it, just like he knows Kaname knows it, and his gaze turns somewhat flat as he looks aside. ]
no subject
She's asking him a question. The question. Almost immediately, on pure impulse, he replies. ]
No.
[ Yes. ]
I'm fine.
[ Or rather, that shoulder is fine, relative to the severity of every other injury he's sustained.
Meaning: everything hurts, but he's not going to be the first to admit it. "Be honest" is a command that seems to have ironically flown right over his head. It's just reflex by now to shrug it off, even if he's all but immobile thanks to it. Messer knows it, just like he knows Kaname knows it, and his gaze turns somewhat flat as he looks aside. ]