Good enough. Good enough for what? Because he was pretty sure, that at this point in his life, he wasn't good for much at all, but Liam didn't have the energy to start an argument on that point. Maybe Trystan knew him well, maybe in all the holes in his memory, there was something there important that Trystan knew.
It was a possibility, at least.
The voice lured him back towards the bed, though he hesitated, paused, bare feet eventually lifting and carrying him back there of their own accord. He found a seat once more on the edge of the mattress, just within reach, his focus on the other man, lacquered nails, a face that was familiar and not, pricking at memories that weren't quite solid.