[ A myriad of responses come to mind, bubbling up through the sludge of his stilted thoughts, one at a time. 'Not like it would've mattered if I died,' comes first. Then, 'even if I did, I would've just come back, probably.' Followed by, 'kinda wish I did.'
He brushes them aside. Making conscious, coherent decisions is hard when his mind feels so rusted over, but on a gut level he knows none of those feel right to say out loud, even if none of them are technically incorrect. Gen sighs again -- slow, tired, but relaxed -- when he feels the sponge scrub over his back once more; his nerves had felt weirdly atrophied, but that tactile sensation manages to break through the heavy numbness, aided by the building, calming scent of sandalwood. ]
... thanks.
[ He means it, too -- it's said quietly, almost gently, without any of his usual toughguy bluster. ]
I would've been fine either way, but. S'good. I 'ppreciate it.
no subject
He brushes them aside. Making conscious, coherent decisions is hard when his mind feels so rusted over, but on a gut level he knows none of those feel right to say out loud, even if none of them are technically incorrect. Gen sighs again -- slow, tired, but relaxed -- when he feels the sponge scrub over his back once more; his nerves had felt weirdly atrophied, but that tactile sensation manages to break through the heavy numbness, aided by the building, calming scent of sandalwood. ]
... thanks.
[ He means it, too -- it's said quietly, almost gently, without any of his usual toughguy bluster. ]
I would've been fine either way, but. S'good. I 'ppreciate it.