Theo wasn't quite sleeping in the chair he was curled up in but he wasn't really in the there and then. As much as St Mungo's had tried to give him peace and quiet it hadn't really worked out; that environment had been ruining him as much as being in his house had done, would have done, did do.
Greg's hut was different. Theo thought he was in Greg's head for one and he didn't force feed him for another. He was chewing at his thumbnail, a place that was always bleeding because he was always gnawing at it in one way or another; his thoughts drifted wwithout direction, touching on spells and curses and languages he'd once known, patterns of runes that became patterns on clouds, times at school where he held hands with Greg...
It was about then that Greg's kiss to his forehead brought him round a little and he stared up at his boyfriend before smiling in a loosely happy way that he'd never had, even before he'd gone mad.
He stretched catlike, so little of him that he barely made an impression on the comfy sofa and then looked up at Greg like he hadn't just heard that. "Mmm, what?"