Ja, and I think it's good. ;hugs: get some sleep, ne?
Walter tensed as he heard the door open, feeling every muscle tighten as a base instinct told him to brace for -- what? There wasn't too much danger in this asylum; not as much as the world outside of it had.
The milky green eyes looked up fairly quickly when he heard a sound from a chair. He gave a small quirky smile that soon faded. He wasn't going to use the expression that came to mind, as it was replaced with obvious worry for the other's well-being.
Was it his fault Henry was -- It is my fault. Walter's body forced him to move closer, to make sure his head wasn't playing tricks on his eyes again.
However, his hands had a different motive than his pure intentions seemed to say. A deceptively frail hand slowly, ever so calmly, effortlessly reached out until it froze, hovering just centimeters from Henry's neck; poised for the kill... waiting for the chance to strike. Walter didn't catch this disobedience that his appendage was successfully undertaking. The pain in his head since Valtiel was gnashing and snarling at the chance Henry, unfortunately, provided it was starting to kill him, figuratively, of course. It wasn't until the hand had started to touch the others neck, once more deceptively gentle, that Walter bit his lip hard enough to bring a different kind of pain that brought an all-too familiar taste in his mouth and on his lips.
The heavy, bitter, copper smell and taste brought him to his senses, and he immediately moved away again, this time to the far reaches of the room, the doll completely forgotten in his swift removal from the previous chair. Instead, Walter sat on the floor, directly in front of the worn out figure, but as far away from Henry as the room would allow. However, he did not leave, nor did he say anything yet. He didn't want Henry to freak out. Yet.