[It isn't anything she's done or said or anything like that. But he doesn't look at her, as she steps beside him. Elena has done nothing wrong. Looking at her, at anyone, now, feels like a disservice to the person they're leaving behind. A disservice to his friend.]
[To one more person (one fewer person) who understood.]
[His arm aches. Old phantom pains and echos of green light where there should be purple flickers. Elena's hand slides through his other arm, and he finds himself gripping onto her hand. Tightly.]
no subject
[To one more person (one fewer person) who understood.]
[His arm aches. Old phantom pains and echos of green light where there should be purple flickers. Elena's hand slides through his other arm, and he finds himself gripping onto her hand. Tightly.]
(... are you okay?)