[No more tired, but does it matter when he's already exhausted—physically, mentally? He moves with purpose but his steps are even more unsteady, like he's ready to collapse at any moment. Every little misstep, every stumble or slip makes his heart jump into his throat, ready for the worst, ready for the forest to come back and finish him off—
it doesn't (thank El it doesn't) and the painkillers do, eventually, start to kick in. The pain dulls to a distant throb... he's in no better shape, but at least he can keep going. He can ignore the pain, shuffle it off to a low-priority corner of his mind. How much further, how much longer...
The forest finally opens up, and his chest aches with something that isn't pain or fear. He wants to collapse onto his knees then and there, dig his fingers into the dirt... but Nene's hand is still firmly grasping his own. He allows himself a sigh, tiredly forcing his feet to march forward. The strange flowers barely even register in his mind, too focused on the singular task of getting back to his room where it might be safe.
... he hasn't asked yet if she'll stay. At this point, he almost doesn't want to.]
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it doesn't (thank El it doesn't) and the painkillers do, eventually, start to kick in. The pain dulls to a distant throb... he's in no better shape, but at least he can keep going. He can ignore the pain, shuffle it off to a low-priority corner of his mind. How much further, how much longer...
The forest finally opens up, and his chest aches with something that isn't pain or fear. He wants to collapse onto his knees then and there, dig his fingers into the dirt... but Nene's hand is still firmly grasping his own. He allows himself a sigh, tiredly forcing his feet to march forward. The strange flowers barely even register in his mind, too focused on the singular task of getting back to his room where it might be safe.
... he hasn't asked yet if she'll stay. At this point, he almost doesn't want to.]