Re: [ER: Newt & Patrick]
"They totally do. Dudes have manes," Patrick said. Tongue-in-cheek, man, and not literally, but he was joking. He was, unfortunately, just a little too down and sedated to whip his own mane around to perfectly complete the joke, but this would just have to be all right, as it was one of those days. He did not, however, mind not talking about Adrian. It felt like he had been doing nothing but talking about or to Adrian since the book, man, and dude could do without for a few moments. It felt selfish and shitty, but dude put it all aside and tried not to think about anything at all. The medicine made it easier, but it was not a simple thing to do, and he only managed it in bursts of seconds.
"You have been in fights," he echoed, and his skepticism was most clearly projected in both tone and expression. He had a most settled view of Newt, and that view was entirely academic, man. Maybe he did not understand that Newt's magical world was more hands-on than this, but he did not imagine this guy in any fights. He did not consider Newt weak, but he just did not think the dude was very physical in this manner. He would expect to see Newt in a skirt before he saw Newt in a fight.
Patrick did not comprehend that he was confusing. Dude did not want to be witnessed, this was true, but he was increasingly less concerned about things done with Newt in private, up to the point where they had done things already. But, man, yes, the offer of a hand to hold was somehow more intimate than swapping spit, and Patrick would find it difficult to explain why. All he knew was he felt most ashamed when Newt did not acknowledge the offered hand. He was not expecting the subsequent 'may I?,' and he maybe started a few moments as his sluggish mind attempted to catch up. But, no, Patrick did not flinch when Newt's hand covered his. the talk of thestrals was distracting, which was maybe a good thing; Patrick was always interested in Newt's world. He turned his hand over and laced his fingers with Newt as the dude talked. "What do they look like?" But, dude paused, and he knew Newt fairly well, man (despite the complete misread on fighting). "You were not talking about them though, or you are saying something I am too muddled to grasp. Clarify, Newt."
He shook his head. He did not want to think about talking to people. He would not do it here, and even in the Capital there were too many people he knew. He looked most childish, he suspected, shaking his head against the white linen of the hospital bed, but it was what it was, dude, and he glanced down at the fingers that squeezed his, still upon his stomach. "Something else, all right? Say something else, dude. Something not about this for a moment."