He's asleep, practically. [But Koby reaches out, smooths Quentin's hair back from his forehead a couple times, like soothing a fretful, restless cat, waiting until he stills completely. So subtle.]
Sure that it won't disappear. Or sure that I That. [He can't even write the word.]
no subject
Sure that it won't disappear.
Or sure that I
That. [He can't even write the word.]