He can feel all the blood draining from his head to cling around his neck like a bright pink scarf, and he can't look away from Azkadellia's eyes despite the fact his own burn like fire.
"It's different for Glitch," he says finally, because she's got to be thinking of Glitch, who else would she even have reason to think was on his mind.
"He gets to go home and start a new life." He tries a smile that actually makes it all the way to his eyes. "He gets to go home, and be surrounded by people who cares about him. He's surrounded by friendship and love, and belonging, and he'll be fine."
The smile falters, though sheer stubbornness keeps it there. "But Smecker-- Paul. He's my friend. My partner, and friend, and he's not so lucky. When the aliens grabbed him, he'd been shot. Badly. And they, they just fixed him right up, like brand new. Not a mark on him but a bloodied shirt."
He swallows, tension-thinned lips sticking together dryly. "He's gone home, and probably to die, and I don't know how to cope with that yet, so I'm not. Okay? I can't right now. It's bad enough his music's gone and I'll never hear it again."
He huffs, mouth twisting into an empty chuckle. "I don't even know half the composers. I wouldn't know where to begin looking them up, I don't have a clue. So that's gone. And he's gone, and I... I'm no good with words. I don't talk, I act. I do things, I don't--"
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He can feel all the blood draining from his head to cling around his neck like a bright pink scarf, and he can't look away from Azkadellia's eyes despite the fact his own burn like fire.
"It's different for Glitch," he says finally, because she's got to be thinking of Glitch, who else would she even have reason to think was on his mind.
"He gets to go home and start a new life." He tries a smile that actually makes it all the way to his eyes. "He gets to go home, and be surrounded by people who cares about him. He's surrounded by friendship and love, and belonging, and he'll be fine."
The smile falters, though sheer stubbornness keeps it there. "But Smecker-- Paul. He's my friend. My partner, and friend, and he's not so lucky. When the aliens grabbed him, he'd been shot. Badly. And they, they just fixed him right up, like brand new. Not a mark on him but a bloodied shirt."
He swallows, tension-thinned lips sticking together dryly. "He's gone home, and probably to die, and I don't know how to cope with that yet, so I'm not. Okay? I can't right now. It's bad enough his music's gone and I'll never hear it again."
He huffs, mouth twisting into an empty chuckle. "I don't even know half the composers. I wouldn't know where to begin looking them up, I don't have a clue. So that's gone. And he's gone, and I... I'm no good with words. I don't talk, I act. I do things, I don't--"