Re: Rehab: Misha B & Damian W
[His nose was still bleeding. Perhaps it was not even his blood. Do not ask him whose blood it would then be—the blood of innocents? of martyrs? of mundanity?—, just know, anything was possible. He was not in pain, that he knew. His nose did not hurt. He tilted his head back when instructed to and he swallowed once before parting lips.] You are glowing. [Said with his usual deadpan flatness. Damian's gaze dropped to bare skin, to the blue hue. He stared, head back. For a long moment, he did nothing. He just looked, unblinkingly, almost frozen, his breathing having dropped to (nearly) nothing. But there was the heat of breath on that kerchief.
Where his mind went, he could not even say. But, it came back. He dredged his gaze up to meet the angel's. He felt safe with him.] Misha. [Damian sighed, closing his eyes and opening them.] I can feel her in there. [He nodded his head backwards to indicate it was what he was speaking of.] Like spiders. [Another sigh. His feet dangled.] Do you remember when you first breathed? [He was calmer now, and that was solely due to Misha's presence.]