[It's interesting, and quite strange, how all eloquence could be robbed from him; whether by exhaustion or by the heat of the moment, it seems that his tongue has stilled. But the touches are still novel and still new, and certainly still comforting, and that's more than he could ask for. It feels less lonely, less alien, with the Operator there and finally the long hours are taking their toll.
He mumbles something in return, perhaps another apology or something of the like, but it's nigh incomprehensible because he's slipping now. As his eyes close, he shifts and tucks himself into the tenno, head resting upon the man's collar and fingers winding in his shirt to keep him close.]
no subject
He mumbles something in return, perhaps another apology or something of the like, but it's nigh incomprehensible because he's slipping now. As his eyes close, he shifts and tucks himself into the tenno, head resting upon the man's collar and fingers winding in his shirt to keep him close.]