[when the water level's still low, Rion tells Cain he'll be right back, and he takes a couple of minutes to try and fix his cold, soaked bed. the mattress is still wet when he changes the sheets and gets rid of all the ice and wrings out most of the water, so he piles towels on top of where it's the most wet.
and when he returns to the bathroom, the air is a milky white. he feels the heat against his face, and his clothing feels stifling. not minding the discomfort too much, Rion sits on the edge of the toilet, watching the water level rise against Cain's corpse-complexion flesh.
when Cain finally speaks again, Rion's head nods upwards attentively as if snapped out of some kind of trance. he hasn't really been thinking about what's happening because it feels like his brain won't let him.
he pauses, and looks back down into the water.]
...Aren't I?
After everything that's happened, I've been trying to figure out why I'm doing anything like this at all.