As Wolfgang talks, Michael feels a mixture of things: surprise, awe, worry, wonder, affection. His eyes widen a bit, brows pulling together. They’d wanted to fix it, make it better, and he’d felt all the earnestness in that desire. Maybe it had been his desire too. Maybe he shouldn’t be so shocked at Wolfgang’s determination. It looks like they’ve been up for days.
He shoves some of the nearby crap to the side with his foot and sits in front of them, looking down into the little landscape in the box. “You’re saying this would make it feel better, right?” he asks cautiously. “How does it work?”