The candy was really good. Even if it made him kind of thirsty. And wanting more. Stan was squishing the jacket to his chest, his cheek rubbing up against the leather collar, but he also was focused on the grass, bright green straws with sugar coating. He wanted to eat it. "I should have gotten a candy apple," he said remorsefully, because he couldn't even remember where he'd seen one of those, he just knew he had, could picture the bright, bright red of it sitting in his palm. But he had no idea where to get it.
But then Killian was in front of him, pinching at his cheek and Stan was blink-blink-blinking in surprise before a laugh sort of just bubbled out of him, like the fizz from the river. "You are--"
What?
Some other version of Stan, not high off out of his mind, probably would have said the worst. But it wasn't true, and this particular version of himself didn't have the emotional wherewithal for such a defense. "Your eyes are glowing," he said instead, leaning in for a better look.