Some people are really good at pretending to be fine when they aren't. He is usually as well; he enjoys pretending. Because when most of them believed he was fine, he would occasionally forget that he wasn't. Not for a lack of trying, but he appeared to be a novice who'd been lying about his current condition. He blabbered on despite nearly falling off his feet. Some might consider him a drunk, but he hadn't had a single drink. You know what! Maybe I am not feeling so hot…
he meant to say, but his exhaustion was too much for him, and what came out were fragments of phrases, nonsense at this point.
Everything went dark as his eyes rolled back. Her words seemed distant as if they were coming from above the surface of the sea. Instead, he slowly descended into the metaphorical dark waters. Her voice was almost non-existent, but it was enough for him to cling to, and he swims back to his senses, waking up in her arms. As he slugged it with excitement, the taste of glass and refreshing water ran its own course through his throat. After being energized by the drink, he is finally able to speak normally. He tried to reach out to her, but his body ached in agony. He was too exhausted to notice, but he appears to have some cuts and bruises.
A warmth followed her voice, and it was as if he had awakened for the first time. Her gaze locked with his, and an overwhelming feeling swept over him. Had he grown accustomed to the absence of such emotion to the point of not recognizing it? No, his body still remembers, it remembers what it feels like to be safe. He hadn't met anyone like that since the circle, someone who made him feel safe enough to be himself. Still, he dared to hope. Perhaps,
as he responded to her, he stuttered. His face recuperated some of its former colors.
With the aid of magic, he regained his strength. However, it may be some time before he is fully recovered. I apologize...
he said insecurely, his gaze averting from hers. [color=#666666]"She has pretty eyes,"[/color] he thought to himself, smiling a bit, but then he shook his head, [color=#666666]"stop it!"[/color] he replied to himself. He sits up straight and on his own, bowing his upper body gratefully. As he looks down, he notices his staff on the ground and thinks, [color=#666666]"When did I..."[/color], recalling the embarrassing scene, [color=#666666]"right... I'm not going to outlive this, am I?"[/color] He sighs, disappointed and embarrassed. Returning to his senses, he stood up and smiled with the strength that had been kindly given to him. My end twas certain were not for you,
he said in a euphonious tone, his hands on his lap. A sad end but an end nonetheless,
he said as he turned away from her and to the bartender. With one hand over his throat, would it be rude of me to ask for another glass of water?
he kindly asked.
