WILL GRAHAM : I THINK — I THINK I NEED A FEW MINUTES. MY BRAIN HASN'T REALLY CAUGHT UP WITH ME . . . BEING HERE.
the dead of night is quiet, serene; certainly a stark contrast to the tumultuous storm howling within will's mind. even now, under the layered aromas of cheap cologne and old, burnt coffee, is the scent of heat. a fevered sweetness that first prickled at his nose days ago -- and since then, has only become more prominent in tandem the way will slips in and out of reality. passages of time slowly being chipped away. it certainly causes a bloom of warmth in the empty husk of his chest that despite so many uncertainties plaguing his mind, will graham continuously seeks him out.
❝ you never have to apologize to me, will. having you here, and helping you, is never a burden. however, these instances of you sleep walking are becoming more and more frequent. ❞
although dressed down from his usual three-piece suit, he had yet to change into something more fitting for sleep. will, on the other hand, is stripped down -- unshielded against the cold. feet bare, dirty. were it anyone else, there would have been a twinge of annoyance; but as ever, all that will is and does [ even at his worst ] only serves to further endear himself to him.
the heat in his home is turned up to something warm, and comfortable; and he comes down with a blanket from the linen closet, and drapes it over @mpathesia's shivering figure.
❝ take your time. i cannot imagine how jarring it is for you, though i am thankful you made it to my doorstep relatively intact. i will put the kettle on for some soothing tea , perhaps. and when you are ready, you may wash up here. rest. i have a spare room, and would feel much more comfortable if i could keep an eye on you. then, in the morning, i will drive you back to wolftrap, and your dogs. ❞
