[ Still... studying his hands. The veins beneath his too-pale skin; the lines in his palms; the fingernails he took such especial care of, the night before what should have been his last -- evening them out and buffing the nail beds and thinking morbidly that if nothing else his would be a clean, well-groomed corpse. It had seemed terribly important at the time, somehow. ]
Nunnally. [ Little huffing breath, almost like impatience. ] She's still alive.
[ And with that, he pushes himself away from the counter. Fully intends to retreat to Euphie's room. ]